


Across the pond

by Holy_Smokes_Pete



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Adorable!Patrick, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Frerard, Gay, Hate to Love, High School, Homophobia, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Peterick, Ryden, Swearing, asshole!dallon, closeted josh, closeted tyler, confused frank, depressed!Ryan, gay patrick, gay pete, gay ryan, joshler - Freeform, nobody can find gerard, pansexual brendon, post-hiatus fall out boy, segregation between houses kinda like romeo and juliet and harry potter, tiny cute foetus pete, vigilante!frank, where the fuck is gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:13:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holy_Smokes_Pete/pseuds/Holy_Smokes_Pete
Summary: When Ryan Ross' mother sends him across the sea to Princeton academy; English boarding school for boys, he meets a handful of kids who will make and break him.*Off hiatus bitches!!!!*This fic is undergoing some maintenance, my tenses change so much and the first chapters suck ass, thanks for reading!!!





	1. You're gonna go far, kid

**Author's Note:**

> Ryan Ross was always a misfit in his hometown, but when his mother marries a rich Englishman, it causes a young, awkward George Ryan Ross the third to relocate, moving 'Across the pond' to England. 'Princeton Academy for gifted young men'. This is the time in his life where he meets lots of new people who will inevitably change his life, especially his worst enemy, Brendon Boyd Urie. After settling in, he realises that maybe... Maybe this place won't be so bad after all.
> 
> So, this is my first ever fic, and it's my baby so I would appreciate any comments and kudos a whole bunch. Like, seriously. Current mood - Misfits - Attitude  
> Please carry on following this fic if you enjoyed this prologue! It's not much but I will obviously expand upon it. Please share this about and get some readers so I'm not writing for myself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really fuckin' hope you enjoy this, please comment on what you liked/disliked and kudos mean everything to writers, remember that!

It was the last day of summer... Well, it wasn't. Not really. However, Ryan felt like this was the case for the past week. He had three days until he was forced to pack up and was shipped off to 'Princeton Academy for gifted young men' on the 2nd of September, which his mom had told him sternly one afternoon "Is PERFECT for people in his shoes,". He had no idea what that meant or why he was so suddenly being abandoned by his mother, who for his whole life, he had been the one person he could trust.

That was a lie too. See, he did know. His mom had found a rich new 'toy' to 'play' with. His name was Jasper and he ran an oil company over in the English channel. In other words, his mother was a gold digger. After his dad had died, she needed another person to spoil her rotten, due to her habitual laziness and lack of commitment when in regard to anything outside of relationships. Even that was questionable. 

Though Ryan did trust her, he never said he particularly liked her, or his new step father either. Yes, she married him after 3 months. If Ryan knew his mother as well as he thought he did, she would have a new man before new year's. It was just something he managed to live with, though the strange men his mother brought home were often terrifying, he had learned to accept his situation at a young age.

If only one thing excited him about moving away from the good ol' U S of A, it was the fact that he could finally have some time away from his mom. Hey, we all have issues, don't we?

So Ryan was sat, slumped on his bed in the corner of his room, boxes full of childhood memories littering the path to the door, looming over him and reminding him of his impending move across the pond. He sniffed as the summer air got at his allergies and sighed shakily, sounding like he was sobbing. He didn't cry though, not ever, not even when he told his best friend Brent -who he had known since he was 3- about the relocation, but he was just putting on a front. He was the strong one, always had been. He had to be.

He shifted his long fingers through his even longer locks of brown hair, ruffling it away from his face. He kicked off his red and tatty converse beside himself and reached for his equally beat up thrift-store guitar. He strummed a familiar rhythm which he knew but couldn't name if you paid him. It filled the deathly silence which plagued his house and shrouded his mind. Pure bliss. A skinny George Ryan Ross the third drifted off to sleep, his small frame clinging to his knees which were just beneath his chin, and his mind whirring, hoping the best was yet to come, in the form of him transferring to this 'boarding school'.

Maybe it would be good there? Maybe he would meet some friends other than Brent? He hoped so. He slept with thoughts of a better place than this drab town flooding his mind.What a miserable fucking 16th birthday.


	2. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franks Introduction. He is a bit of a bad-ass, a bit of a mess, a whole lot of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm really proud of this chapter, for some reason. Probably the policeman part. Anyways, moving on. Current mood Take a vacation! - The young veins. So Frank enjoys swearing. The characters in this fic are kinda based off of their real life personas, but tailored to make the plot a bit more dramatic. Don't worry, i won't introduce EVERY characters backstory at the beginning unless you really want. Let me know dear readers! Next is either patrick or josh and i am a huge patrick and peterick stan so yeah, prepare for fluff. What is peterick without fluff? #Notmypeterick
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting and bookmarking <3

Frank leers at the stricken and red-faced teacher, legs propped onto the desk before him, arms cradling his head in a relaxed manor. Frank is anything but relaxed. His English teacher is practically blowing smoke through her nose, with how absolutely livid she is with him.  
"Mr Iero, your parents are being called this moment, now get your legs down off that damned desk or so help me-"

"Fuck off you old coot, my parents are too busy to do anything for me, or anyone except themselves for that matter." Frank spits venomously, flicking his gelled black hair out of his vision.

"Summer school was supposed to help you with... this," the teacher, or was it prison officer, gestures to all of frank, as he grips at a pencil, " but instead, you have just wasted my time! Your parents WILL come in and we WILL discuss other education options, other than public school, as this clearly isn't working out."

Frank tenses up at these words. He doesn't want to go to juvie. Even he knew he wouldn't last five minutes with those scumbags-in-the-making, and that is saying something. His soft but focused facial features twist into something unrecognisable. He is silent, face tilted to watch the desk, and the teacher stares intently in anticipation. Of what? A punch, a tackle, a verbal lashing, god only knows what else. The pencil snaps, breaking the silence. Frank springs up, bending over to grab his jet-black backpack and slinging it onto his firm back. He has no regard for anyone, even on his best days, so he clutches the teachers shoulder and shoves her back out of his space. She over-reacts and basically makes herself fly like 20 feet away. Shit. That's not gonna help his case.

"COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN OR-" The door slams shut. 

He walks, looking at his feet. Frank is a pretty isolated guy, and by that, he never had any friends at all. Guys like him don't need friends. Frank doesn't need anybody. He has himself.

 

»»------(2 days later)------»»

 

Nothing ever works to his advantage. That's what you get for being Frank. The universe just works against him at all times. The drone of his English teachers' and his parents' voices lulls him into a kind of peaceful sleep. That is, until he hears the words "move away" and "Princeton academy for gifted young men". He startles awake, heavy breathing. He is back from the void. NO. FUCK NO. He is not going to one of those posh English boarding schools you see in the movies. Especially one with no chicks. Frank IS a bad-ass, but he is ALSO a virgin and wants to change that before he turns 40. When he goes to argue though, in his peripherals, he sees his mother, his traitorous whore of a mother signing something. 

"What the fuck did you just-" Franks eyes focus on the headline of the paper, reading 'Educational visa to England' and his eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, shit. Mom what the FUCK did you just do? I can't believe you! Actually, i can, i always knew you hated me! Why didn't you just fucking abort me, huh? Seems like you regret me enough!"

"You need help Anthony, and this school is just the right place to help you. You can finally find some friends, or at least have a while away from here. It'll be-"

"Don't you fucking Anthony me, you bitch, my name is Frank. You just want to be rid of me, and well, it's likewise, but do you really think that I'm ever going to go there to that school for gay pricks? The teachers will probably bend you over if you get an answer wrong. Fuck that!" His English teacher rolls her eyes and stares on at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"Well, you HAVE to go now, I've signed the documents, and after we're done here, we are packing for your departure. You leave tomorrow at noon for the academy."

Frank keeps a poker face, not wanting to entertain his mothers' cruel nature, though he feels like breaking stuff. That's what he will do. He rises slowly, addressing the three present; his traitorous parents and his vile tutor:

"Well, you can all go and FUCK YOURSELF because i can guarantee, that nobody else will do it for you." He says this while smirking, though inside he is livid. He turns on his heel and flees. They always fight, but nothing ever comes of it. He always knew he was hated, but this takes the piss. Mom : 1 Me : 0

Fuck them all, if they think even for a second that they could make me leave. Well, I'll leave, but I am not destined for that shit. I'm going to Vegas. Fuck yeah.

 

»»------(14 hours later)------»»

 

Nothing ever works to his advantage. That's what you get for being Frank. It is 2 AM and he is walking with a bulky bag full of money, clothes and cheetos resting on his strained and tired back. In his hand is his fathers flask, half full of Jack D's Old NO.7 Tennessee Whiskey. It tasted gross at first, but now he couldn't care any less. He will NOT go back home, because he hates it and his parents are horrible and it sucks and- and yup, he is drunk. He doesn't even know if he's headed down the right highway. He zig-zags down the side of the highway, almost tripping every few steps and spilling most of the contents of the flask on the concrete. Shit. He hears sirens coming from behind him, slowing as they got closer. Double shit. 

"Have you been drinking, son?" The man in uniform says, stroking his stubbled jaw. "You don't look old enough to me."

"N- *burp* No!" The inebriated young boy blurts out, aggressive and defiant as ever.

The policeman stares ahead incredulously, smirking to himself, causing his stereotypical Alabama cop 'stache to ride up higher on his face. 

"Okay then, but you ARE Frank Iero right?" The officer reclines on his car door

"What? NO, that's not me, and if it were why would i be here, and Frank Iero isn't old enough to drink but I'm drinking and... Yeah." He says and then hiccups loudly.

"Oh, so you know Frank then, do ya?" The police officer chuckles, further leaning on his car door.

"NO! Wait. Oh shit. You caught me there." A heavily intoxicated and hilariously confused Frank Anthony Iero manages to mutter out before attempting to flee, resulting in the kid flopping onto his face. That's the last thing he remembers of that night.

 

»»------(10 hours later)------»»

 

A defeated and deflated, terribly hungover Frank sits solemnly on his economy class plane seat. You'd think that his parents, having so much money would at least pay for business class accommodation. Yeah, right. He sighs a miserable sigh and lies against the small porthole-like window as the plane takes off into the skies. He waves goodbye to his home mentally, as he is too physically drained from the past few days.

Nothing ever works to his advantage. That's what you get for being Frank.


	3. Open Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't gathered yet, i name all of the chapters based on songs which i think are suitable for each individual chapter, be it due to the titles' relevance or the songs' nature, or even both. Please enjoy and comments are appreciated as always, let me know what you're thinking, ya know? Also i switch from present to past tense a LOT so sorry! For the sake of this fic, everybody except people from the people i mention are English, m'kay?

Princeton Academy, at first glance, was frankly breathtaking. Even the garden was beautiful and spanned for miles. It looked like something straight from the Harry potter universe, the boy thought to himself. The air on the cramped and clammy coaches, which climbed slowly down the driveway, was filled with the awe-filled gasps of the boys on-board. As the seemingly eternal bus ride came to a close, everyone was massively excited to go and see the place they will be spending their lives for at least the next school year. This was not, of course, excluding a hugely nervous and socially awkward Patrick Martin Vaughn Stumph. A wave of huge, scary looking boys who towered over Patrick spilled out of the small coach door, grabbing their luggage as they fled. When it came to his turn to exit the coach, the comparatively tiny boy hopped up, rose-cheeked, attempting to grab his backpack from the luggage holder, to no avail. After all, the kid is only 5"5'. Basically everyone was on the courtyard, lined up, but here the boy stood. After around two solid minutes of trying, his face twisted into one of defeat, and he slumped his back, feeling embarrassed that he was always too short. Always. He couldn't even get on roller coasters sometimes. While this boy was busy waging a war inside his mind, he heard something behind him. Another boy with a slim but almost athletic build had jumped up onto Patricks' chair and reached for his bag, successfully grabbing it. He then hopped down and shook the fringe out of his eyes, holding the bag out for 'rick (as his mom used to call him). He wasn't much taller than Patrick, maybe an inch or two above him?

"HI!" The other kid beamed at him, a smile from ear to ear. He was a weird emo looking kid, but something was kinda compelling about it. Patrick had never met a real "Emo" before. He shrugged.

"Hi?" Patrick returned, not wanting to seem rude, partly hoping the other boy would just leave. 'Rick doesn't feel like socialising much ever really, but especially not after such a long ride. Pete noted that Patrick had an American accent, though Patrick was too busy for Petes' accent to even register.

"I'm Peter, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III..." The boy said in a mock British stereotypical accent, bowing to accentuate his sarcasm. "I'm fucking joking, call me Pete. Everybody does. Aaaand by everybody, I mean me. Sorry, I'm rambling... You are?" Petes' shit eating grin remained plastered onto his face. He has a nice face.

"I'm uh- I'm- I'm... I'm Patrick. I guess I'm actually Patrick Stumph, though." Patrick adds hesitantly. Sometimes, his anxiety gets the better of him. Today was one of those days.

"Patrick, huh? Well I'm gonna call you Ricky!" The boy informed enthusiastically. He watched as Patrick shakes his head, a pang of sadness flashing onto his face. He shook his head. That was a strong nope. "Hmm, okay. I'll call you 'Tricky! Yes, it's settled. Tricky it is. Well trickster, here's your bag. I'll be seeing you, soon i hope!" The kid tossed the pack at an unexpectant Patrick, who caught it with an 'Oomph', and like that, Pete was gone with the wind.

"Thanks, Pete." The boy whispered to himself, rubbing his neck and blushing, as he found himself to be the last one on the coach. He snapped back into reality and caught up with the loud, ocean-like mass of boys on the courtyard, the cold English air flushing his exposed cheeks, or was it that boy who caused the blush? Who knows?

»»------(Pete's Perspective)------»»

 

Stood in line, in the bitter cold of the England air, Pete shivered. It chilled his bones. He was used to the windy city; Chicago, but this was on another level. The low pitched but brash voice of a teacher who introduced himself loudly to all in attendance as "Mr J. Black." interrupted Petes' thought process. Every boy, all what? 200 of them, stood to attention at this very moment, scared out of their skins. All except that boy Pete had just met, who was at this moment staring at the ground and kicking his feet, causing a little cute double chin to appear from under the kids jawline. Pete found this kid fascinating. He had decided from the moment he had laid eyes on him that he would befriend him. Pete could tell that they would be great friends already, really. Mr Black spoke up:

"Alright, There are 4 houses: Red, Blue, Purple and Green. I'm going to read out all of the new students from the Purple houses' dorm rooms, so first, i would like all of the upper classmen to return to their usual rooms in an orderly fashion. Thank you. Please may all of the year 11 purple house line up over here, and the other houses, go away, and find your houses' staff member, I'm sick of seeing your faces." The bitter teacher spat quite viciously. Pete scoffed, and the teacher shot him a look that could freeze hell over.

A huge portion of the crowd left, drifting off to the beautifully decorated entrance hall with their bags in hands and a lively chatter began amongst them. Pete noticed that all of the students didn't sound like he expected, an overbearing English accent. Instead, they had fairly neutral accents. That was disappointing, he would have liked that. Then his attention shot back to Patrick who looked absolutely terrified of this new teacher. It was cool having a fellow american to talk to away from home.

"Okay, so since I'm going to be like your parent away from home for at least the next year, Call me Jack. Or Mr Black if you'd so prefer. So since we have had such a small amount of students accepted this year, you will share rooms in pairs or fours, and the list goes as follows. REMEMBER! You get what you get, and you don't get upset!

"Sooooo, we have 80 students who have been accepted as year 11s' who will be split equally into each of the 4 houses. That's the equivalent of Grade 10 to the few Americans joining us this semester. As you know, you are the Purple house. There is a reason you are destined to be here, in this house, but you can only find the real meaning if you reach your full potential, which i hope you do, 'cause that reflects positively on me. Enough of that; you guys all want to find out your bunk buddies, huh? Alright, let's do this!" The teacher yelled, over enthusiastically as the boys (and some girls? Pete swore this was an all boys school?) warmed up to their appointed house leader.

"First off, we have Billie Joe, Trè, Mike and Patrick, who will be in P dorm, floor 1, Room 1A. I suppose, the bunk bed spaces are first come, first serve, so, off you go!" Pete couldn't help but be disappointed that he wasn't bunking with that cute kid he had just met. He sniffed, and assured himself mentally that he would see him again anyway. 

"Next, Russell, Noodle, 2-D and Murdoc, room 2A. Thomas, Mark, Travis and Matthew, 3A!" The four fist-bumped, grinning before running off, over-encumbered, " Adam, Avril, Freddie and Michael, please go to room 3B. Joseph and Andrew, room 2B. Finally, Rivers and Peter, Room 1B. I'll see you all after you have unpacked." Pete was beaming from ear to ear, he didn't have to share his room with three other dudes, just one kid called "Rivers"? No problem. There was one kid left, looking anxiously at Pete, gripping his pillow. That was presumably Rivers, he was a weedy, nerdy looking thing with over-large glasses resting on his nose, and shocks of golden brown hair shooting from his head. From his appearance, he seemed quite a character. Great!

"Hi there, Pete was it?" The kid mumbled nervously, unsure of himself.

"Hey dude, cool name, and yeah, it's Pete, only my mom calls me Pete, well she did..." Pete's face dropped, and he shifted uncomfortably, wanting to avoid the topic.

"Why not anymore?" For a smart looking kid, he wasn't the sharpest tool.

"Oh, It doesn't matter, lets go dude, we need to get moved in." Pete interjected, avoiding the subjest like a pro. He had learned how to do that after so long dealing with it.

The kid grinned, skipping along side Pete, who pulled his stuff along gingerly, making sure nothing was lost on the way.

When they got to the outside of the dorm, Pete's jaw dropped further than he thought humanly possible. His new house appeared in the form of some kind of modern taj mahal or something less Asian and more 'Downton Abbey'. The path led him and his new companion to the front door of P dorm, where there was already a party on the top floor. Damn seniors, they get all the fun. Rivers was a chatterbox. He hadn't shut up yet, so Pete was on autopilot, saying yes and nodding every few seconds, laughing occasionally. As they punched in their pass code into the dorms' door lock, they saw all of their new form-friends playing soccer, or as Brits call it, football in the lounge. School: 1 Home: 0. Pete squealed, rather embarrassingly, and ran to join in. He never told anyone, but he could have gone pro soccer, but he chose the blue-collar life, to his dad's approval, but his own dismay. Why try and please a man who cares about nobody but himself? He slammed the kid he recognised as 'Michael' from role call over, smiling gleefully as he kicked the ball without aim. Shit! Ultimately it didn't go so well. It ended in a smashed window and a broken vase.

"FUUUUUUUCK, FUCK FUCK FUCK! WHAT DO I DO?"

Everybody was laughing and patting Pete on the back. Not the time, dickheads. He hid his face in his hands and shook his head. By the sounds of it, everyone had left to unpack. Pete, with his hands still blocking his vision, jumped face first into the couch and slumped on it for a long while. After minutes, possibly hours had passed, he felt a firm and warm hand on his tense shoulder.

"Pete? Hey, wake up, dude, look." The hand shook Pete as if to wake him, and Pete stirred, recognising the voice and looking up at a flustered Patrick. Patrick pointed at the 'broken' window, which was now taped up and covered by the drapes which hung across the window, making the room darker.

"I, I didn't want you to get into trouble or get sent home, so I fixed up the window. Nobody will notice, I think. Also, I hope you don't mind, I unpacked all of your things for you. Your roomate, Rivers, he's a really cool dude." Pete sat up on the couch, stared up at Patrick. Yup, he was now Pete's favourite human. He sat still for a while with Pat looking at him, until suddenly he grabbed Patrick and started hugging him on the couch like a big teddy bear, in quick succession.

"Thank you, 'Trick." Pete mumbled against the kid's neck, and strangely, the boy didn't mind being bear hugged by a relative stranger. They fell asleep like that, just the two of them un-interrupted and cosy, waking up as the sun was about to go to bed. Patrick's eyes cracked open and he realised where he was. Upon looking down, he saw a childish, adorable Pete napping with his thumb resting on his bottom lip, reminiscent of a baby in a crib. Grinning to himself, he picked up Pete, who must've weighed like 3 lbs, and stumbled towards room 1B where Rivers was playing on Fallout 4 on his Xbox. He made a shush gesture with his finger on his lip and laid Pete out on the bed, covering him with his blanket, cause If England isn't cold, he'd definitely not like to see what is. After this, he said goodnight to Rivers, cause it was already like 1 AM and Pat hadn't slept much recently. He went back to his room, saying goodnight to Billie, trè and Mike, then flopped into bed, ungraceful and not giving two fucks. When he dreamt, he dreamt of Pete, though he'd never admit it. On the other side of Patrick's bedroom wall, Pete lay there dreaming of the cute little kid he met on the bus today, and he shifted, not having his teddy-bear to hold onto anymore. No, he was sleeping next door.


	4. .Weighted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna do it so all of the other 6 main character moves in in this 3 parter mega-chapter maybe. If anyone out there is reading these, i love comments more than anything, just something like "Guess what, im alive" would suffice! Lets get on with introducing Badass!Frank Artist!gee Popular!brendon Depressed!ryro (douchebag!dallon) Jock!tyler and Jock!josh... But don't worry, they aren't stereotypical jocks, they have brains! I'll probably start uploading every sunday that i can, and don't worry, this fic is gonna be going for a long time.

»»------(Time travel back to role-call --- Franks' perspective)------»»

 

Fuck her. FUCK HER! Since when does any kind of mother send their child to another fucking country, just because they can't be bothered enough to care for me? Oh, wait, i forgot. We are dealing with MY mother right now, meaning she isn't a mother but a heartless bitch who never did anything good in her life. Frank is snapped out of his train of thought when the bus comes to a halt. 

"We're here lads, this is where the Red house, form R will be taking their role-call! Everybody off!" The instructor said, afterwards couching a loud and chesty cough into a handkerchief. Gross.

Frank wanted to resist, walk away and never come back, but the school fields spanned for miles and miles, and he was just the slightest bit apprehensive, in the case of him getting lost, which would be very embarrassing. He leapt up, all 5'6'' of him and hopped up to the baggage holder, barely grabbing onto the strap of his bag. After pulling it with all his strength, it landed on the floor with a thump, and he dragged it out into the courtyard where some other boys were waiting, most of them looking much older and taller than him. He steeled his jaw and puffed out his chest, a kind of strange defence mechanism he had developed from being such a tiny human in such a big world. Next to him stood a boy not much taller than himself, so he felt at ease. Maybe this guy is a year "year 11" (or tenth grader as he would be back home) too? He had blonde hair and a massive ass butt-chin. Frank stared at him for a while until he saw an older man walk up and clear his throat, holding a clipboard.

"Hey there, team! If you're in Form R, Red house, then you are in the right place! I'm Mr Doherty, and I will be your live-in parent here at Princetons'. Please may the upperclassmen leave and report to your form tutors, thank you!" This man was short in stature, skinny too. He had a small head and a mousy voice which contrasted his very loud fashion choices. He donned a somewhat floppy trilby and coal coloured leather jacket, along with a white shirt, stonewashed blue jeans and cowboy boots. He looked like something out of a Clint Eastwood classic. Odd choice of clothing for a teacher.

"I'm just gonna get straight to who's rooming with who, alright? I know that's what you all want." Frank huffed looking at his wrist at an invisible watch. His Ramones t-shirt was looking rather warn. Perfect. Frank couldn't wait to hear who he was rooming with, probably some weirdo kid who never stops playing 'dungeons and dragons' or something. He chuckled to himself, garnering a strange look off the boy next to him. He hoped it wasn't that cunt who he would share his room with. "So in 1a it is John, Paul, Ringo and George. 1b is Dave and Kurt." At the mention of the word Kurt, the boy next to frank left, meaning he was this Kurt. "2a is Mr Steven Morrisey along with William Becket, Travie McCoy and David Bowie, and 2b is home to the first ever two girls we have welcomed here into our forms' ranks, Amy W and Hayley W. Congratulations by the way, girls." Frank smiled evilly, thinking of ways to get with them already, he much preferred the ginger ones' looks, Hayley. "3a will be home to Thomas, Guy-Manuel Andy and Ben, whereas our final room has Frank, Ray, Bob and Gerard. First dibs system for beds, off you go, I'll see you guys either at dinner or tomorrow." Frank had no idea who those three dudes were, couldn't even remember their names and he sighed. Dragging his bag across the gravel, he made his way to R dorm. 

After walking for what seemed to be forever, he reached an overlarge mansion looking building with a sign saying 'Form R - Red house Dorm'. Red banners spilled from the windows and it was dead silent, save the wind blowing through the fabric of the crimson flags. Great. The guitar resting in its pouch on his back weighed down on him like a tonne of bricks, so he shifted it and began heading to his new room. When he arrived, two boys were already sharing one bunk bed, leaving the other side of the room past the divider baron and dull. Without a word, Frank decided he wanted top bunk, and threw his bags onto the bed which was currently unoccupied. After unpacking his clothes and hanging some posters, Frank finally put his guitar, 'pansy' on its stand and smiled at it fondly. Time to meet the others.

"Hey man, its Gerard, right?!" The boy with the chocolate coloured frizzy and unkempt afro suggested

"It's Frank actually..." He mumbled, moving his black and blonde hair out of his face. Frank was determined to use all of his efforts to make a couple of friends, even though he had no people skills and found it hard not to be an ass to everyone he ever met.

"Oh, sorry, I just assumed 'cause me and bob here know each other from back home," The chubby blonde kid with ear stretchers, piercings, the works, smiled at him "so your name was either Gerard or Frank. So, hey bro! We left a whole bunk so you two could choose, but the other guy seems to not be here, anyway. I'm Ray, by the way if you didn't catch it." The kid looked happy to be speaking to Frank, something very alien to a boy who behaved like Frank did all his life. It felt good. 

Though he was intrigued by that other kid not showing up, it slipped his mind; he started a game of go fish with the two boys he had just met. He thought to himself, this is gonna be good.


	5. Polarize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me, intros are done with the next chapter, then we can get on!

Tyler's face was stretched into the biggest smile you've ever seen on a human being, or any living thing for that matter. As he saw what was to be his new school, 'Princeton's', It grew -though previously thought quite impossible- to three times the size. The reason he was so happy was that he was attending for free. He was awesome at pretty much any sport you can think of, so he got a scholarship for up until graduation. When the coach pulled to a stop in the courtyard, he was the first to jump up, grabbing his duffel bag and suitcase then joyfully skipping down the aisle in the direction of the driver.  
He was skipping, yeah, but nobody dared question his masculinity. Probably because he was the same height as most of the kids on the bus, but weighed around three of them combined in muscle. It didn't show really, just nice calves and arms. He pushed open the door without a word and stepped out merrily onto the yard.

An awesome looking black dude stood there wearing a black suit and psychedelically patterned tie. He had a huge afro, contained by a headband in the same style as his tie. He stood there tapping his foot and looking at his watch, not noticing Tyler a few feet away from him. Tyler let out a fake cough. The dude looked up abruptly.

"Um... Hi?" A now strangely nervous Tyler said with butterflies threatening to erupt out of his stomach.

"Hey there, you must be in blue house, correct? Rad! Ok, just stand over there, you're just as new to this as me bro, and we're both Yankees?! Nice to know. Call me Jimi. Normally the kids have to call me Mr. Hendrix, but everyone from back home can skip formalities with me!" The teacher -Jimi- grinned at Tyler, and he felt better now, his previous anxiety melting away.

The rest of the kids had caught up at this point and Tyler stood back. A boy with crimson red curls smiled at him when he turned, making the crows' feet next to his eyes appear, but Tyler ignored him and turned back to Jim. This was when the teacher chose to speak.

"How's it going, Bros? I'm gonna be you best friend in this school, I'll be the one you come to with anything, so let's have a good relationship, huh? So I'll go over this later, but I'll bet you guys wanna be told who you are staying with, right? Well here we go! First of all, we have the infamous 'Beastie boys', so called 'cause of their skills at boxing. These guys are Mike, Adam and Ad-Rock. Since there are only 3 of you, you will be rooming with Chester Bennington in 1A. Next is Mike, Joe, Rob and Brad who will be in room 2A. Then it is Andy, Chris, Ashley and Jake who are in 3A. Alex, Matt, Jamie and Nick are in 1B, followed by Trent and Dave in 2B," By this time, everyone had walked off, all except Tyler, and that smiley kid. Guess this means- "Finally Tyler, and another fellow American, Josh! You're in 3B" Yep, it means he will be rooming with that smiley kid... Or Josh? Yeah, that's it. Josh.

With that, Tyler became instantly nicer to this Josh kid, knowing he'd have to room with him, and he was pretty open to it. The dude was pretty. His hair was pretty. But, Tyler didn't didn't care what was in his hair, he just wanted to know what's on his mind. As Tyler struggled to shift his stuff, Josh fell in line, grabbing Ty's heavy ass suitcase and pulling it along with ease.

"Wh-" Tyler struggled to force out, confused.

"Just helping out, Tyler. Hey, since we're gonna be rooming, tell me 5 facts about you!" He quizzed enthusiastically.

"Well I can't dance, I don't know karate, I love to rap, I'm here on a gym scholarship, and i HATE bananas!" Ty looked like he had just swallowed a lemon with the face he pulled at the word banana.

"Oh my God, me too! Well, the part about the bananas! Well, mine are I play drums, I'm a music and gym dual-major, my favourite colour to wear in my hair is pink, I love lemonade and... Um... My second name is Dun. It makes me laugh cause it reminds me of the noise a kick drum makes and i love drums so yeah." The boy went red, his cheeks matching his hair.

"That means we will be in classes together, i do music and gym too! My second name is Joseph." He smiled, dazed at how much they had in common.

"I'm gonna call you TyJo!" He giggled, Tyler already warming up to this guy. 

The two found their dorm, the entrance hall filled with boys and laughter and excitement, but the pair continued on to their rooms and ignored it. They were too interested in each other.They talked non-stop about themselves and swapped stories of back home. Josh took the top bunk and Tyjo the bottom. They unpacked and sat talking for hours. They even skipped evening meal. They never even left the room. After hours of just talking, Josh said something as he sat, cross-legged on the bedroom floor.

"Tyjo, you said that you are a music major, right?" He looked up at the smaller boy who was sat on his bed.

"Yeah... I play the bass guitar and Uke and piano, but mostly, i love to sing... and rap." He said, his voice trailing off near the end of his sentence, perhaps nervous that Josh would laugh at that last part.

"Play me something?" Josh asked, blowing the curls out of his face.

Hesitantly, Tyler got out his ukulele and started to sing the words that his head was making up.

♫ We don't believe what's on TV  
Because it's what we want to see  
And what we want we know we can't believe  
We have all learned to kill our dreams♫

Josh at this point was swaying and grinning like a two year old at Ty, as if he was the best thing since sliced bread/

♫ I need to know  
That when I fail you'll still be here  
'Cause if you stick around, I'll sing you pretty sounds  
And we'll make money selling your hair ♫

Josh was clapping along happily to Tyler's strumming

♫ I don't care what's in your hair  
I just wanna know what's on your mind  
I used to say I wanna die before I'm old  
But because of you I might think twice ♫

At that last line, Tyler looked directly into Josh's eyes, and he felt at home, like he had known this boy all his life. He smiled at the boy, and Josh smiled back, tilting his head like a puppy. It was at that moment that Tyler Robert Joseph realised he had just experienced love at first sight.


	6. Starboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon is loud, arrogant and... Not a nice person, but he WILL grow up one day. I promise. Ryan is the exact polar opposite, quiet, contained and secretly sassy as fuck. How will the kids react when they are forced to be in the same dorm? The thing is, not even they know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, when i think of Brendon Urie, i think of this song. Sass like Gerard way, ass like Patrick stump, class like the Weeknd. Let's jump into the final introductory chapter of this ic. If you've stayed this far, I love you for giving me a chance <3

Brendon was pissed. Why did he have to come here, of all places? All the way to England?! It made no sense. Besides that, he was pissed off, cause he gets easily car sick and he was just about ready to vomit all over his new friend Dallon when the coach came to a complete stop, without his knowledge at first. Dallon tapped him, laughing.

"Dude, you look like the incredible hulk, but... Less muscles and more forehead!" He laughed, noting Brendon's green tinge from the ride here.

"Fuck you dude," He laughed, visibly relaxing once he knew they were going to be leaving this fucking coach soon. "Besides, you have just about a mile of extra neck to spare. Fuck it, I hereby dub you Sir Dallon 'Da-long neck' weekes, and i gift you 4 acres of land on my royal zoo, in the giraffe enclosure." He added with a smirk, quick-witted as usual.

Both boys stood up, grabbing their things from the overhead, and they began to walk towards the door. On the way, they saw a short boy with long brown hair and a Beatles aesthetic reaching for his bag, but unable to reach. Dallon laughed and tripped him over with his suitcase, making Brendon burst out laughing. The boy just looked upset for the most part, sighing and picking himself back up, dusting himself off. The two taller boys cared very little, and continued laughing as they walked off. Brendon was a bit of a bitch, even he had admitted that on several occasions. That day was no exception.  
They stood in the group of boys, looking enthusiastic to meet their new room-mates, as making friends (and enemies too, sometimes) came easily to both boys. The teacher was hot, B didn't mind saying, she was young, curvy in all the right places, amazing hair, caramel complexion and to round it all off, she was a real female in a boys school. He guessed that she had some intense sass-

"Okay honeys, you listen here and you listen good," She said gesturing to her eyes with two fingers, and then the huddle of teens. Brendon was right. "I'm Miss Knowles, leader of the year 11 green house, or form G if you'd like, and I'll take no non-sense, i want that to be clear. Ok? Ok. So I hear we have a few American and Latino student transfers this year, most being put into this house. It's cool to know people from back home!" She said with a laugh and a wink in Brendon and Dallon's direction. Fuck she was hot.

"Well, as the other tutors will have told their respective forms, I'm going to see you tonight when we all eat, so I'm just gonna let you all go unpack, so here are your room-mates for the foreseeable future.  
Room 1A is Brando, Mark Ronnie and Dave, room 1B is Jared, Nate, Chris and Adam. Room 1C is home to all the females that are new this year, Gwen, Ashley, Lana and Sarah. 2A is Jon, Spencer, Brent and Prince, finally, our all American room, 2B is home to Ryan, Brendon, Dallon and Gabe. Go... Do stuff. Please." She said tiredly, walking away with a sway in her hips, making most of the boys drop their jaws, most of the girls roll their eyes at the boys.

#-------(Ryan's (new) perspective lol)-------->

He couldn't hang around there, with all the fake rich kids, he felt nauseous. He couldn't believe that he hadn't been put in a house where he belonged, like the purple or red house. Not here, anywhere but here. He got to his room, seeing a guy, who was like a 9 stood just inside, smiling kindly at him, wearing sunglasses.

"Hey dude, i know i look like a douche, but im not, i swear! The name's Gabe, and I'm the Latino miss Knowles mentioned. You are?" He said warmly.

"Um, I'm Ryan, and I'm from Vegas. To be honest, I'm so glad that my room-mates aren't douche bags..." He admitted, met by a "Oh, they are. Brendon and Dallon were the two kids laughing at you on the bus. But, that's okay, I'll be your wingman, even though it seems like you ain't gonna like it with THOSE GUYS in here... You'll be fine, I swear it. They fuck about with you, ask them to come see Papi Chulo, I'll sort 'em out." He joked and Ryan thanked him silently. They took the left side of the room to themselves, Ryan on the top bunk and Gabe on the bottom, and they unpacked while talking for a while.

Some two hours later, Brendon and Dallon came bursting through the dorm room door, "We're home, bitches." Shouted the taller one. "Who are the fuckers we're supposed to be rooming wi-" He halted as soon as he saw the kid he had tripped on the bus; Ryan.

"Oh, look B, it's that faggot from the bus!" He pointed, mocking. "Hah, yeah... Faggot..." He echoed. The word made him feel uncomfortable, but nobody noticed, forcing B to rub his neck out of habit. Coming from an overly Mormon family, Brendon was taught to be hateful towards gays in his youth, but B disagreed with it completely. Of course, nobody knew this. To put it into his own words, "Homophobes are probably just too scared that a dick might taste really delicious." but Brendon was new, and needed to keep up his popularity and appearances, despite his first instinct to contradict his long-necked friend. This led him to put social spheres before his beliefs, as it has for many kids dealing with sexuality before him, and no doubt will happen again. He was suddenly overcome with sadness, not about the kid, about his beliefs being attacked in a way and him not being able to fight back. Ryan watched as he silently unpacked. Dallon said more derogatory things about gays. Brendon took the top bunk, naturally and lay on it in silence. He was angry, clear even to Ryan who was busy dealing with Dallon.

"You know what, big guy, keep your long neck out of our side of the room, you and your 'friend', or i'll fucking break it, capische?" Gabe yelled, livid. Gabe was straight, mostly, kinda, but he saw sex as sex, and actively supported lgbt+... Activities? Yeah. He didn't even think Ryan was gay.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to get some surprise butt secks from you and your pet bender over there." He chuckled, gesturing to a sheepish and hurt Ryan. Ryan started to feel tears spilling over. He got this back home, and now here? Fuck, it hurt him deep. He fled the room, holding his head in his hands. Gabe looked Dallon up and down, made a disgusted noise and said something in Spanish, then followed Ryan.

"Hey, ignore the dude, hes just un hijo de puta. Lo traeremos de vuelta mi amigo, lo juro. Fuck what they think. You aren't even gay!" He laughed, holding his belly, rather comically.

"That's the worst bit, Gabe. I am! I'm 100% flaming homosexual 24/7. I had this back home, and It's even the same here! I... I want to not feel this way. They think it's a choice?! Fuck them! I can't do this anymore. I feel like the aesthetic of a linkin park song!" He half joked, tears rolling down his face. Gabe enveloped him in a tight hug.

"I don't judge, you've got a friend in me. People should be who they are, unless they're a serial killer, then they should probably NOT be who they are... But that's beside the point, mi amigo. Remember, I'm just a mattress away, if you ever need me." He winked, hugging him tighter and patting him on the back. "It'll all be fine, trust me, it'll be okay. Love wins over all. Bullying is the kind of thing angry and in denial closet gays and abused children do anyways. You're stronger than you might think. We all are."

After Ryan had cried it all out, the two kids escaped over a tree, letting them get past the school walls, and went for ice-cream, on Gabe. This was the start of a beautiful friendship.


	7. Change (Some people never do) (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day at Princeton academy, finally covers all 8 main characters, their friends such as Gabe and Will and Dallon and classes. Get buckled in!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wasn't feeling it, I'm exhausted, so I apologise if it isn't up to par. This is part 1 of the first day, cause i couldn't get it finished on time. It took me literally over 5 and a half hours to get here. What can i say, i'm easily distracted. Sorry that I can't decide whether to stay 1st or 3rd person, I'm a young and inexperienced writer, forgive me.

Day 1) Monday the 5th of September

#----(7:30AM, Brendons dorm)------>

Brendons' eyes cracked open hesitantly as his alarm beeped. He'd partied too hard yesterday. Shit. He lifted an arm lazily and slapped it at the clock, knocking it to the floor, but unsuccessfully shutting it up. He was too lazy to get out of bed and turn it off.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!!!" The boy groaned, wiping his hand across his face. He hadn't noticed yet, but Ryan had woken before the other three -Gabe, Dallon and himself- to take a shower. Ryan walked out of the bathroom silently, wearing a towel and nothing else. Without a word, he picked up B's alarm, turned it off, put it on his desk and left with a small smile to get dressed on the other side of the room. Brendon was confused to say the least, as to why the kid was being kind to him after yesterday. No matter, he stretched and went to roll out of bed, which was when he noticed that he had some major morning wood. Going a shade of deep red so dark it was unknown to man, he sighed deeply and basically sprinted to the bathroom so nobody saw. 

#-------(Ryans' perspective)------->

Ryan saw no reason to be horrible to Brendon. He didn't like him at all, but they had to share a room at the end of the day, so he grinned and bared it. He pulled on his boxers and shook Gabe to wake him.

"You snore." He smiled fondly at the boy.

"Well you just woke me up, so YOU suck." Gabe retorted, smiling back at his new-found friend. "Now, let's get today done, huh? Then we're gonna go play skee-ball or something afterwards."

"Uhm... Gabe? We're in England. There isn't an Skee-ball here."

"Yeah... I TOTALLY knew that." Gabe looked around half embarrassed, half confused. Ryan smiled and pulled his covers away, pushing him out of bed and telling the taller boy to get ready, before pulling on a plain white shirt and tie. Ryan didn't mind the uniform. Shirt, tie and pants or skirt. Pretty good. 

The two kids got ready quickly, walking out of the room to utter chaos. Nate and Sarah were passed out on the floor, Chris was literally taped to the wall, Jared was screaming at Adam and Gwen was having a cat-fight with Ashley about Mark. Ryan just rolled his eyes and left the dorm quickly, wanting no part in that absolute mess as Gabe followed.

#-------(7:30AM again, Pete's dorm)------>

His eyes shot open instantly, Pete bouncing out of bed and turning off his alarm. After THAT nap, he was well rested enough to never sleep again. Speaking of...

"PAAAAAAAA--TRIIIICCKK!!! WAKE UP!!!!" He yelled, slamming his fists against the wall next to his bed. Patricks' bed was on the other side of the wall, so he would probably wake up from the noise soon enough.

"Hey Pete. Keep it down please?" Rivers asked from the bed across the room. "You woke me up!" 

"Uh, sorry?" Pete spoke, shifting uncomfortable. "I didn't mean it."

"It's fine, honestly, It's cool, just... Ya know?" He tried to explain, getting up and putting on his school pants.

Pete turned back to the wall and grabbed a really long nail from his toolbox that he packed. He knocked it through the wall, creating a small hole leading into Patricks' bedroom. He looked through it into the room, and saw Billie Joe, Tre and Mike (Patricks' room mates) looking at him angrily.

"Sorry! For waking you up, I mean." He confessed and Billie rolled his eyes and told him to come in if he wanted. Pete grinned and got dressed, so fast that it was like he would win a million dollars, if he got out of the door in a minute or less. He said his goodbyes to Rivers, and left, bursting through Patrick's door. He ignored the three other dudes and ran to Patricks' bed. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the other boy.

"Awwwwww, isn't he the cutest thing when he's asleep?" Pete squealed "I want to adopt him." He giggled, sitting on the edge of the other kids' bed. He lay face to face with him as the other boys got ready and left them alone. He lay there, not caring if he was late because this boys' face was beautiful. His eyelashes blanketed his chubby little cheeks and his lips were like tiny little pillows, and god, he was beautiful, magnificent. It needed to be treasured. He stared at him for ages, until Tricky stirred awake, opening his gentle blue eyes. He looked shocked for a moment due to his unexpected visitor, before smiling at Pete. Their noses were touching and it was perfect.

"Good morning, sunshine." Patrick whispered, it coming out raspy as he had just woken up.

"It is now." Pete sighed contentedly back. His wit was as sharp as ever. This caused a grin from the other boy, and Pete felt the sudden urge to shift forward and kiss him. He didn't, though. Patrick seemed extremely straight, and that one kiss would possibly ruin everything. He had to suppress a whine. "Anyways, you need to get up or we'll be late!"

"Patrick jumped up. "Crap! Not on the first day!" He jumped out of bed, yanking on his pants and shirt, ready almost as quickly as Pete was. "Holy smokes Pete, we gotta go." He gasped, and that was it. Everything getting in the way. Pete was indirectly pissed at time itself for taking this moment, this boy, away from him. He falsely smiled at Patrick, sad at the sudden loss of closeness.

#-----(Josh and Tylers' dorm room 7:30AM Josh's perspective)----->

The alarm clock bleeped and both boys looked up. Time had escaped them, as they'd stayed up all night singing and playing the ukulele together, Josh tapping in time. Neither boy wanted to sleep, they'd each just found their respective best friends. Tyler sighed and stood up, turning off the alarm, and smiling at his beautiful, perfect, painfully hot room mate/new best friend.

"I guess it's time for school then, huh?" Josh said mournfully, looking to the ground. He was sad that they had to leave, too. That fact gave Tyler so much relief. His eyebrows knitted together, and he wished he could stay here with this amazing boy with crazy, awesome hair and tiger growl teeth forever. Ty went to his drawer without a word, frowning all the while, and began getting ready, Josh mirroring him. 

"So..." Josh started, after minutes (which felt like hours) of silence "After school, what do you say we sneak up onto the school roof? I hear it has quite a view. I sat next to Alex Turner on the bus ride over and he was telling me stories his father had told him about this place." and with that, Tyler perked up immediately. "Frick yeah!" He shouted, making Josh laugh uncontrollably. "W-What? What'd I say?" He asked, suddenly concerned. "Y-You... Hahaha! It's just that, what you just said, it sounded weird." He explained, tears of laughter welling up in his eyes. "Oh. Fuck yeah?" Tyler tried, which just made Josh laugh even more. "Dude, you're golden in my books. We need to get gone. C'mon you absolute egg, we gotta go." 

"Egg?! What kind of diss was that?!" Tyler questioned back, eyes scrunching up with laughter

Both boys were dressed within the next two minutes, leaving side by side. The hallway was silent and empty, so was the yard outside of the window. This meant one thing. Their dorm mates weren't even awake yet. Idiots. Lazy jock idiots. Why were they in this house? They didn't belong

Josh felt a knock at his hand, looked down and noticed that Tyler wanted to hold hands. Josh subtly looked around, seeing if anyone was in fact here to see it. He was safe. It upset him having to hide his sexuality like this, but he wasn't ready to come out yet, not even to Tyler, and wasn't about to be outed by a house full of jocks. It was particularly difficult now that he was sharing a room with somebody he presumed to be straight as an arrow. Who, by the way, Josh had a total painfully big crush on. He looked at Tyler, longing, before snapping out of it and taking him by the hand.

"It's English first, with the purple house, right?" Tyler asked, as josh replied with "Yeah. Yeah, it is. With Mr Gabriel."

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Tyler said, as josh stared at Tyler from the corner of his eye. "Oh, definitely." But josh wasn't talking about the school.

#----(Frank, bob and Rays' dorm room 7:30AM)--->

Frank yawned obscenely, stretching his arms above his hair, then itching his jawline. He hopped off the bed with a thud and checked the bunk below his. The covers were still perfectly straight, the bed not slept in, and Gerard still not present. Frank brushed it off and walked past the divider, just in time to see Bob cooking waffles in the microwave in his underwear and Ray with a pencil sketching Bob for some reason.

"Nice view of Bobbys' ass there, Ray?" Frank remarked with a devilish grin, garnering a snort and booty-wiggle from Bob. "I'd much rather be drawing your ass, Frank." Ray winked, unphased by the remark.

"Still no sign of the other kid, then?" Bob wondered aloud and Frank nodded his head. 

"First to find him gets £10 off of me." Ray half-joked, but Bob and Frank agreed eagerly. Frank would find this kid. That money could go to getting some cigarettes, or fags as the Brits say. Frank found that amusing.

#----(1 hour and a half later, Red and purple house are in maths with Mrs Knowles)--->

"Okay class, come on in and sit down, I don't care where."

The two forms ran in, scrambling to sit next to their friends on the 2-seater desks, 2-d and noodle, Dave and Kurt, Joe and Andy, Paul and Ringo, it was chaos. Pete walked in, and there sat his room mate Rivers, gesturing him to sit down. He heard his name shouted and looked up to see Patrick grinning at him, ear to ear. He muttered a sorry to Rivers, who looked genuinely hurt, as Pete ran over to sit next to his friend. "Hey, Tricky." He winked. 

Children spilled in, 39 students, all 16 years old. To an outsider, or an elderly person, the sight would have been terrifying. That number should have been 40 students, and Frank knew why it wasn't. Where was Gerard? Every desk was full by the time that frank walked in, all except one empty one at the back. He sighed and sat at it kicking his feet up. He shouldn't be sat alone, Gerard should be sat here next to him, humming or tapping pencils or looking at him in a disgusted manor, some of that shit, but frank didn't even know what he looked like, he couldn't visualise it. He pulled out his MP3 player and put in his earphones. Shuffling the song onto Run to the hills by Iron Maiden, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

The teacher stood, waiting for quiet as the class settled. Pete shot a spit-ball at Travie from the red house, and Travie smirked, him and Morrisey beginning to throw things like pencils at the Purple house. Matt threw a chair, Hayley drew on Adams' face, Adam in turn pants-ed Amy who slapped Russel, thinking he had done it. It was a clusterfuck, and pretty soon turned into an all out war between the two houses. Mrs Knowles just stared on in disappointment as Patrick hugged onto Petes' arm for cover from the raging battle happening before them. Pete forgot completely about the class, because the most beautiful boy in the world was attached to him out of choice. Pete almost fainted. William Beckett, the boy with a golden aim (and ass), grinned and opened a glue stick. He took out the sticky glue block and launched it square at Murdoc's hair, and that was it. Murdoc roared out, running full force into William and knocking him over and punching him repeatedly. Frank noticed the commotion, and always one for a fight, but a fair one, jumped up and into the fight.

Murdoc was like twice the weight of Will, even for a skinny dude, so Frank sided with Will. He ran up, clawing at the greasy boy towering over Will. He picked him up by his tie and punched him square in the face, a crunch coming from the impact. Unforgiving as he was in a fight, Frank launched Murdoc with almost superhuman strength half way across the classroom. He growled, flicking his hair and clenching his fists by his side, waiting for retaliation. "Get the fuck off of him, honestly. You think you're tough, take me on! I'm here because I'm so violent and 'unbreakable' that even my parents don't want me anymore, so don't fucking bother. You're invited to get the shit beat out of you, though. Any time. I don't take kindly to bullies, call me a vigilante." He spat at the dazed boy, whose nose was now running ruby red. "Like batman?!" He heard someone whisper, dazed by the display. He smirked at that and turned on his heel, sitting down quietly at his place, putting in his headphones again. The room was almost silent, Murdoc crying and sniffling, everybody staring in awe at Frank. Pete had missed the whole thing because he was too entranced by Tricky snuggled up to him, so when he finally snapped out of it and looked up he was very fucking confused. Patrick was just flat out asleep, being adorable and unknowing of the situation. The teacher was staring, gobsmacked but unresponsive, as she should be. 

Well. 

That was the end of that.

(Part 2 to come next Sunday, the official start to summer for brits. Thanks!)


	8. Change (Some people never do) (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the first day at Princeton Academy. Let's just say it's a bit more chilled out than the last chapter, and at the same time a whoooollleee lot more dramatic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! I'm in a slump. I don't know what to do! But i have up until Christmas already planned basically, so let's carry on and see where we end up, hmmm?
> 
> Rest in peace Chess, I am going to cut a plot idea I had with you, but keep you in the fic because i love you and you were my childhood. I'm so wrecked that he killed himself, but this is gonna be one of many peoples' fics that he is in, so let's carry on as usual. I hope he is in a better place, that is if he believed in it. (Which I don't fyi but let's hope it's legit)
> 
> If you want to know the timetable for classes, then I'm going to post it next week methinks.

#-----(Lesson 1 for Blue and green; English with Mr Gabriel)------>

Tyler slapped Joshs' shoulder playfully as he told him just about the millionth -English class related- pun he had come up with this lesson.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop, i swear! Just, one more." He begged, beaming at the other kid.

Tyler huffed, pretending to be annoyed, before smiling and nodding for him to continue.

"Yes! I had a crazy dream last night. I was swimming in an ocean of orange soda. Turns out it was just a Fanta sea.." He joked, Tyler making a mock unimpressed face.

"That one did nothing for me, and besides, we didn't get to sleep last night, we were up all night!" Tyler said, slightly too loud, just enough to attract the attention of an obviously homophobic boy sat behind him.

The boy wolf whistled, causing everyone in the immediate vicinity to turn their attention to Tyler and Josh. Tyler cringed, and Josh was just flat out confused.

"You two were up all night, were you?" The kid said loudly, Tyler turning around and recognising it as Dallon Weekes as it said on his book, Brendon sat beside him, melting into the chair, not wanting to be there. "So, do you guys wanna come out to us now, or should we wait until somebody sees you fucking in a toilet stall?" He asked menacingly, making Tyler blush and Josh hide his face.

Tyler is gay, yes, but he didn't want to have to ever tell anyone. He just wanted to get his grades and roll out. Dallon just made a new enemy. He gritted his teeth, flipping Dallon off and turning to Josh. He heard angry mumbles about 'a faggot' from the taller boy, but ignored it. He heard sniffles, almost silent. It was probably so quiet because he was embarrassed to cry about it, Tyler guessed. Josh had nothing to be embarrassed about. He was the straight one, right?

"What's wrong Josh, what's the matter?" He whispered, not wanting to draw more attention. No answer.

"C'mon, you can tell me anything, remember?" He tried.

"It's... It's nothing, honestly. Just... Just leave it."

"Naw, c'mon, ignore him, his neck is longer than the fucking football field outside!" Tyler joked, cheering Josh back up.

"He does look like a giraffe, right?" Josh agreed, lifting his head and smiling at Ty. Ty smiled back, wiping away his tear carefully. "No more tears. Not on my watch." He said, taking Joshs' hand under the desk and leaning his head onto Joshs' shoulder. This just made Josh love him even more. 

It hurts when you love somebody who can't love you back in the same way, Josh thought. Why couldn't Tyler be gay? Oh, right, of course. Love hurts.

This was gonna be a long day.

#------(Lunchtime)------>

Pete was walking with Rivers, apologising for leaving him to sit next to Patrick half-heartedly, day-dreaming about the cutest boy he had ever seen. This was the exact moment when he heard.

"People like you should be dead, just look at you, you're fat, nerdy, poor, you look like a straight up fag, frankly i fe-"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Pete interjected, howlinging at Dallon, not caring about the huge group of taller boys (much scarier looking in comparison to him and Rivers) which now surrounded him and Rivers. Rivers gulped and snook to the back of the crowd, wanting to avoid confrontation. Pete didn't care that is roomate had abandoned him, they were hurting his Patrick. His Tricky.

"Or what,huh?!" Dallon grimaced, cracking his knuckles and staring at the much shorter boy.

"Or... Or... Or I'll do it for you!" He snarled, walking closer. He puffed out his chest and attempted to make himself in the least bit intimidating; however, as a 5 foot kid, that proved rather difficult.

Dallon laughed and grabbed Patrick's glasses off his face.

"Catch!" Dallon said, throwing them so Pete would have to run and get them, but Pete intercepted and caught them mid air, walked in front of Dallon, punched him square in the nose and turned to Tricky as Dallon groaned in pain.

"You okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?" He asked his friend, concern deep in his voice.

"Yeah, I think. Thanks Pete." He flashed the traces of a smile at Pete.

Pete smiled and passed Patrick his glasses before turning around, ready for a fight. He was right about that.

"Patrick, run!" He shouted as he was punched hard in the stomach. Rivers grabbed Patrick and pulled him away, too scared to jump in and help Pete, before he had time to protest.

Within seconds, Dallon, Jared and Dave (The green house bullies) were all on top of Pete, Dallon straddling Pete and punching his stomach and chest. The girls were screaming, Gwen, Sarah and Lana, telling Dallon to 'leave the poor emo kid alone'. Mr Black heard the commotion and ran over, picking up Dallon by the collar and throwing him off Pete. 

"Get the hell off of my student! I'll see you all in detention; Leto, Weekes, Keuning. It's the first day, this shit already?" He cursed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Everybody clear off!"

"You okay there, Peter?" He offered the kid his hand. Pete didn't take it and stood up, brushing off his shoulders.

"Yeah, just peachy." He replied, sarcasm dripping from the words. His lip was busted.

"We need to get you to the infirmary. Come on."

"No! No. There's somebody i need to see. I'm fine, honest. Oh, and it's Pete, not Peter. Call me Pete."

Then he was gone in the crowd of kids.

#----(Lesson 2)----->

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lunch hour. It was House red and house purple in English with Mr. Gabriel now, and Maths for Green and blues' with Mrs knowles. 

Frank walked in late, surveying the classroom for a seat.

"Mr...?"

"Iero."

"You're late, stay behind after class!"

Not wanting to cause a commotion, Frank looked down at his shoes and nodded, accepting his fate. As Mr Gabriel dismissed him, he looked at all the pupils, noticing there were 3 people missing now. One was Gerard, he knew that much, but there was another completely empty desk that was full the lesson prior. Curiosity killed the cat, so he just walked to his seat. The lesson went off without a hitch, not even a single word from Murdoc, the bastard. 

#-----(Purple dorm)----->

Pete ran in, bruises springing up all on his arms and chest, littering his porcelain skin, his shirt ripped, his bottom lip three times its' usual size. He pulled off the remaining tatters of his shirt and held it to his bleeding nose. He needed to find Patrick, so he was skipping second lesson. Carrying on to Patricks' room, Pete opened the door. Nobody there. He'd already searched everywhere, so he didn't know where to go next.

After losing some momentum, Pete felt like giving up, so he decided to just sit out this lesson and play on Rivers' video games in his room. He wouldn't mind, right?

Pete pushed open his door and dropped his bag onto the floor, undoing his tie and sitting cross-legged in front of the X-box. After loading up the soccer game he had found, Pete swore he heard a little sniffle from near him. His head shot up and his eyes instantly focused on his bed. Well, a lump under the covers on his bed. It sniffled again, shaking violently. Pete leapt up and sat next to the lump.

"Hey, Patrick?"

"..."

"Dude, it's me, It's Petey. C'mon, come out and let me see you. Please?"

"..."

"Hey, you wanna see the battlescars all over my smokin' bod?" Pete grinned beside himself, gesturing down to his skinny and slight frame. It elicited a small giggle from Trick.

"Fine. You show me yours, I'll show you mine?" Patrick joked.

"There's my Tricky!" Pete laughed as Patrick slowly wriggled his head out of petes' bed sheets.

Patrick wasn't laughing anymore though, when he saw the extent of Petes' injuries. He started to cry again.

"Hey, It's fine, It's only skin deep!" Pete tried to reassure Tricky, holding his wrists and staring into his eyes. His big blue eyes. Honestly, he was (though previously thought impossible) even more beautiful when he was sad. He just wanted to lean forward and... No! Stop it Pete!

"It's just that... Nobody's ever done that for me. Nobody! Thank you so much Pete!" Patrick lunged forward, enveloping Pete in a tight embrace. Patrick buried his face into Petes' neck. 

"I love you." Pete whispered, Patrick not hearing. 

"Of course i'd do that for you, you're my blue boy." Pete stroked his back, comforting him, though Patrick was pressing against his wounded chest. It hurt. Love hurts.

"Hey, did you at least get a good hit in? Rivers pulled me away so fast, i couldn't even stop and go back."

"Yeah, I wanted revenge. Nobody touches you without your permission. And the fact that Dallon was saying such mean and untrue things pisses me off even more..." Patrick lifted his head and smiled at Pete then.

"But thats' the thing! He can read me like an open book, he picks on everybody! He can smell your weaknesses, i swear it. Long ass bitch." Patrick huffed.

" What was he right about? You're not fat, you're 'thick' and i think bigger bo- girls are hot anyway. You ARE nerdy, but it's cool, he's just a bonehead, he knows nothing, he's just jealous. You ain't gay either so-"

"SEE THAT'S THE THING!" Patrick shouted way too loud. "Sorry. I mean... Umm." He hesitated, hiding his head again but this time in his hands.

"Hey, you can tell me anything. You're my only friend, so It's not like i could go telling anybody else..."

Patrick sat back and cleared his throat. He appeared to search long and hard ;) inside his head to find the words he wanted. Sighing in defeat after some fatally long moments of suspense, he sat up on his knees on Pete's bed and took a deep breath.

"Okay, so... I like guys." He bluttered out, Pete not catching his drift. He siged and tried again.

"Pete, I understand if you want to never talk to me again for the rest of my pathetic little life, because i'm... Well, I feel the way about boys that I'm supposed to fell about girls."

"Wait, so you're gay?" Pete's eyes widened. Noting this, panic instantly struck Patrick.

"Oh god, you hate me now, don't you!?"

"Trick, no I don't hate you, far from it. Truth is... I'm gay. I just didn't want you to know, just in case you were uncomfortable, you know? Don't sweat it. We can be flaming homosexuals together, we will slay." Pete joked, eliciting a laugh from his best friend.

"So I guess Dallon was right about one thing, huh?" Pete laughed, Patrick tapping his lightly on the shoulder.


	9. I feel it coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of the first school day at Princeton. Pete and Patrick are straight outta compt- wait, outta the closet; Frank is lonely, Ryan is confused, Brendon is a sheep, Gerard is... Wherever the fuck he is, Tyler is in love with Josh who also loves him, but they can't admitit because they are scared and it's very messy. On with the show!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and I'm going to start sticking to peoples' own point of view, switching when required, to make it easier to keep up and understand their thoughts. I am taking a slight bit of inspiration from 'The heart rate of a mouse' on that.
> 
> So, I am a white nerdy hoe but god, I love the weeknd, so that's where this chapter got it's name, ugh N U T.
> 
> 3 weeks late on my upload schedule, i apologise, being a depressed bean + holiday + illness = No time to write.
> 
> It is ridiculously hard to write a fic with so many characters as your first fic, I regret taking on this task so early.
> 
> Anyways, let's start as we mean to go on... Shall we?

*Continuation from last chapter*

#---(Pete's view)--->

Patrick sniffled and wiped his eyes on my duvet cover. I groaned, stifling a giggle just barely.

"Oh gawd! Now I got Patrick Germs all up on my shit!" 

I gave Patricks' shoulder a shove, eliciting a beam from the smaller kid. Awwww. 

"So hey, since we are skipping our second lesson of the year, that means that we are free to do as we please for the rest of today... Any requests?"

Patrick gave a thoughtful look, his eyes twinkling, before he shouted "Last one to the Ice cream parlour is paying!" and practically flew off the bed. I growled playfully and gave chase after his smaller frame. Since I'm actually surprisingly good at soccer, I had no problem in catching up. I was about five metres behind Patrick, and as pervy as it sounds (it was pretty damn pervy) I was staring at Patricks' ass, my gaze unwavering. This caused distraction enough for me to run directly into a pole. Wow, karma's a Bitch with a capital B. I didn't want to stop him since he didn't notice I had fallen, and the reason why is absolutely embarrassing; something i didn't really want to explain to him. 

'Hey i was just gawking at your ass, my new best friend who I've known for 2 days.' Doesn't sound too good. Nah thanks.

I arrived at the Ice cream place way after him, and let him believe that he out-ran me. Whatever makes him happy. He ordered a vanilla milkshake, I ordered a cookie dough sundae. I paid without complaint, and he flashed me a smile that was priceless. It was well worth the £5 to see that face. Hell, I'd spend a million bucks just to get one of those smiles from him. This is concerning, he could be my gold digger so easily, and i wouldn't care. Hell, I'd give this kid my world and we've known each other for around 48 hours.

#---(Patricks' view)--->

Pete is an enigma. I'm not sure what to make of him, never have been. He reminded me a lot of Jughead Jones from that Netflix series, Riverdale, in those days. Just as angsty, just as smart, one million times as hot though. He had ice cream all over his nose, just on the tip. He looked adorable. That isn't something you would think that i could say about Pete Wentz, but I think that even after 2 days of knowing each other, we had opened up to each other more than we have to anyone else before. Well, at least i know that i haven't gotten along with someone as much as him ever. Period.. I've never come out before, except to Pete. It's like he is the warm water to my lid, he just gets me to open up so easily. It's terrifying. Pete breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Hey!" He waved in my face.

"Hey." I smiled in response, taking his hand in mine and resting them on the table. Nobody was here to judge me anyways. Nobody to call us faggots and spill pigs blood on me and my pretty, pretty dress. Why am i like this? Concentrate Pat! Conversate with this cute, cute emo boy.

"Did you... Have you ever come out to anybody before me?" I asked, deep down hoping for a 'no'. My wish was granted.

"No, to put it in leymans' terms. I haven't even 'done'... anything before. Not even with a girl. But I'm sure that I am. Gay, that is." He opened up, a blush creeping up his face.

"Hey, me too sugar. On both accounts." I reassured, patting his hand which sat in mine. I smiled warmly, our eyes locking. Where did this confidence come from? "Here let me-"

I leaned over the table, smiling sweetly and taking in Petes' confused and fascinated facial expression. His shoulders tensed up. He tilted his face and closed his eyes. I was confused. I reached over and wiped the ice cream off his nose, as he opened his eyes back again. He looked disappointed. I knew that look, knew it well. Too well. I just didn't know why he was disappointed.

"Oh..." He whispered under his breath, his shoulders slumping.

"You had some... On your nose, Pete" I laughed. He laughed along. It was fake though, I'm not stupid. What was wrong?

A kid with swept back blonde hair, who was sat a few tables away from us, winked at Pete. He had olive skin and a red jacket on. I thought he was from purple, I remember his surname. Way, i think. Pete stared at him for a moment, then shot me a look which was unreadable. The guy was trying to make a silent pass at him, but Pete wasn't interested. Pete didn't look gay, but it's cool that he is. He is cute and i needed somebody to relate to/ want to bang. What? I didn't just say that.

We had finished our ice cream in almost total silence, Pete looking down at the table the entire time. His black fringe swept down his forehead, curtaining his eyes. He had seemingly cheered up afterwards though, and we went back to his room to play on Rivers' xbox. He wouldn't tell me why he was sad. I brushed it off, which i would (much later down the line) come to regret.

#---(Joshs' perspective)-->

I waltzed out of Maths with Ty on my tail, and we hummed the tune of that song he made up the first time we had met. I loved that song. It felt like it was about me, and it made me feel special. But alas, he is a big sporty straight dude, the kind of person i am supposed to be, but I'm just a big noodle, well my sexuality is anyway. A big WET curly noodle. I've never done anything with a guy before, but i had a few girlfriends in grade school and middle school. That was until i decided that i didn't like holding their hand and instead wanted to hold boys' hands, especially Dennys'. Denny was an old friend, haven't seen him in a while. He didn't like to hold my hand back. Thought it was weird.

"So, how about this school roof rendezvous i was promised?" Tyler whined, causing me to do a fake groan.

"We're gonna go In a minute, let's just go leave our bags in our dorm room, huh?" I asked, or rather said matter of factly.

"Urgh, you're right, let's go then Joshy, I wanna have some fun!" He yelled, flinging his bag over his shoulder and linking arms with me. I felt awkward that people might say something, but i forgot that we are huge and muscular and well... Popular in school, so nobody would even dare say anything. I'm skipping gym practice to go out with Ty, but he is way worth my time. I relaxed a bit and started walking towards our dorm, arm linked with my best friend. Doing things like this kinda hurt. Why did he have to be straight? It'd be so much easier on me if he wasn't, so at least i could have a chance with him...

#---(Tys' perspective)-->

We were almost out of the door on our way back to the blue dorm when i heard a familiar voice. Joshs' head shot back behind us, as did mine. There was Dallon, and his shorter but similar looking counterpart Brendon Urie. They were from our English and math classes today.

"You two fags off to bang? I mean, It'd be pretty easy, you two sharing a dorm room and all. Be sure to look after yourselves... Or my boys might 'accidentally' find themselves hunting you cunts down. Hell, they already banged up two benders today." Dallon laughed coolly, his friend looking glum and staring at the floor. He didn't want to be there, he knew it, i knew it. He was scared of the big bad bully Dallon Weekes. I can understand why. He doesn't belong there, next to the taller boy, cowering. He deserves to be his own person.

"Oh yeah? Well who gives a fuck what you think? I'm gonna take my BOYFRIEND here and fuck him all over your dorm room." Josh seethed, spitting the words like venom. I was just blushing. He isn't gay, doesn't know i am either, but he still wants to defend homosexuality. My heart melted a little. Also, a guy i like is talking about fucking me, who wouldn't blush? Brendon looked up and smiled politely at me, then he winked. My gaydar (which is excellent, by the way) was going nuts. Oh. He bats for the same team as me? That's why he hangs around Dallon, so he doesn't get bullied for being gay. Keep your enemies closer. I'll keep his little secret, though. I don't believe in outing. "Stupid fucking Mormon. How come slavery is peachy in your book but being slightly different is frowned upon. A fucked up system is what it is. But maybe... Maybe you don't think it's wrong, your'e just in denial. A scared little homo, huh? I bet that long ass neck is good at taking dick, huh?" He jested, simulating oral with an invisible dick. Hot. Damn.

Dallon looked disgusted, the resident bully being taunted, with homosexuality of all things. He gritted his teeth and processed what he would say next, but Josh wouldn't let him get a word in edge ways.

"Don't like being called gay, do you? Well then, don't do it to me or my FRIEND here, or you'll have some of our 'boys' to deal with. You done? Good, cuz I'e heard enough from your irrelevant ass already." Josh finished, indicating between me and him. We are in a house full of bonehead jocks. They can be bought for a baby ruth.

Josh visually calmed down. Dallon stood, slack jawed, in confusion as to what had happened. I was mirroring Dallon. Brendon was covering his mouth, struggling to hold back a fit of laughter. Then i started to laugh, mainly at the comment about his neck. Comedy gold. I nodded to Urie as we turned to walk back to our dorm, before josh added a few extra words.

"Oh, and I heard what you did to those kids, real tough. Picking on that adorable little guy, breaking his glasses. What a BIG guy you are. I'm sure your mother would be proud. You and your goon there need to grow up some day and realise that karma exists, and it will bite you in the ass."

Dallon was still silent. Brendon looked remorseful.

"As well as my previous points, beat up any more kids, especially for their sexuality, and we're gonna have a problem. Got it, punk?" I raised an eyebrow. Why is he so protective over peoples' sexuality? He defends that more than anything else. Maybe...? No, he can't be gay.

Dallon nodded quickly, Josh grinning slyly from ear to ear.

"Ciao, culo." He said, linking his arm back with mine, dragging me to the dorms.

"Hey, Josh, I don't really want to go out anymore. Maybe another day?" I yawned, hoping he would take the hint that i was tired. I wasn't tired though, just confused.

"Sure baby, whatever you want." He grinned at me. Baby? Did he just say that? I am aroused. Stop being such a fangirl, Ty! He didn't mean anything.

#---(Ryans' perspective)-->

I walked next to Gabe, my newfound favourite person. It was cool to meet a Latino, I got to learn loads of Spanish curse words. Yeah, I just turned 16. No, that's not pathetic. Whatever, mom. Anyways, I'd been called to Mr Gabriel's office for a 'special request'. Maybe he wanted me to suck his dick while reading me poetry or some kinky shit. He seemed the type. Well, here was his room. I nodded to Gabe, him pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I was going to object, but once a smoker, It's hard to stop. Besides, he looked smokin' while doing it. Both figuratively and literally. I sighed and pushed open the English room door.

"Ryan! Hey, take a seat would you?" He yelled, surprised. He tucked his dick back into his pants and closed his browser simultaneously. Of fucking course. I considered walking out, but he seemed embarrassed, so he probably wasn't intent on doing anything like that with me. I rolled my hands, gesturing for him to go on and tell me.

"Umm, sorry if you saw anything... Anyways, I was required to check how you guys were doing with English at your old schools and... Brendon Urie, who shares your English class, he is basically working at the mental capacity of a 10 year old. He is 15, and is going to fail his exams if he doesn't get a tutor. As his scores are exponentially low and yours are probably the best i have ever seen, especially from a child of your age, i was wondering if you would become his tutor? It would be good for your resume, especially if he gets better at this subject. I believe that it would be good for you both."

My blood boiled. I had to tutor that homophobic kid, that bully, that boy who has no spine, who is friends with the schools' bully? I would do it, but I wouldn't like it. I sighed and nodded my head. Yes. I will cast my pity on this poor unfortunate soul, help him succeed in life, though he doesn't deserve it.

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur, Mr Gabriel going over the technicalities of being a tutor, giving me tips. By the time it was done, i walked out of the door and Gabe was lighting his 5th cigarette. I huffed and walked by him, pulling it out of his mouth. He complained, expecting me to trash it. Instead, i parted my lips and rested it between them. I inhaled the thick smoke, my lungs filling, my chest feeling hollow. My tense shoulders relaxed. Gabe looked alarmed. He knew that i hated smoking. He could tell that i was 'shooketh'.

"What's wrong, sugar-plum?" He asked, leaning against the wall next to me. He lit a 6th cigarette to replace the one i had stolen. I sighed.

"So, you know that asshole guy in our room?"

"Dallon?"

"No, the other one, Brendon."

"Oh. Yeah, what about him?"

"Well... I'm his English tutor now, turns out he is... Troubled when it comes to words. Kinda tells you why he hangs around with Dallon. Boneheads."

"Oh. Well, maybe you can, i don't know, become his friend?" he shrugged his broad shoulders, flicking his cigarette ash onto the linoleum.

I laughed hard, my eyes scrunching up, holding my belly, my cigarette falling to the ground. Gabe didn't see the funny side.

"No, seriously. Think back to when Dallon was being an asshole on the first night, Brendon wasn't saying anything, he didn't support what Dallon said, he just played along. Maybe he isn't so bad? Give him a chance, huh?"

I listened to him and nodded. Gabe was wise beyond his years. I love that man. He convinced me, and we walked back to the dorm.

#---(Gabe)-->

We were sat on our beds playing cards peacefully, that was until the door came bursting open, Dallon cursing and shouting about disrespect and 'damned blue queers'. Brendon followed behind meekly, shutting the door and sitting on the floor near my bed. He was sulking and looking at me and Ryro every so often as we played. After a while, he just hunched, head in his palms, silent. I felt bad, but didn't want to force Ryan to play with him, so i kept my mouth shut. Dallon had trashed his side of the room and was shouting for around 10 minutes before he grabbed his jacket and left, still kicking things, to try and buy some beers or something.

Brendon was still sat there, looking deflated. I was taken a back when Ryan broke the silence.

"Hey, Brendon. Wanna play?" I looked up at Ry, confused, fascinated as he smiled politely at the boy on the floor. I didn't think he had a forgiving bone in his body. I was wrong.

Brendon was equally shocked, his head shooting up, him smiling hopefully. 

"R-Really? I can join?" He wiped his eye on his collar. He was crying? He looked guilty. Perhaps remorseful?

"Yep." Ryan nodded, tight lipped as he dealt out some cards for the boy. I nodded approvingly at Ryan and he mouthed a 'thank you' to me. Not sure why. Oh well.

Anyways, we played. It was awkward at first, but we got into it, both of the other guys even laughing and joking, gloating when they won. It was actually pretty fun. After about two hours though, Dallon came bursting in and Brendon ran up into his bunk. He was scared of Dallon, what he would say. I could tell. It made sense now. He was scared of Dallon bullying him, so he hung around. I could see the fear in his eyes when the taller boy came in. He practically jumped out of his skin. Maybe he was actually nice. I hoped so, Ryan can't get hurt again. He is delicate, too much will break him. I saw when they were playing that they could be friends, it would work. Dallon stands in the way of that. Let's hope that the 'tutoring' works out.


	10. Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the first week at Princetons'. We see Brendon and Ryan study together for the first time. There's a whole lotta emotion in this one!
> 
> Prepare, suicide is referenced in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since i have no time, i'm gonna use what little i do have to try and update on Wednesdays sometimes as well, to make up for any times i don't upload on my regular day (Sunday). Thank you for sticking with me this long :)
> 
> Instead of yesterday and today, i uploaded this mega chapter, the result of 3 writing days.

*Tuesday*

#---(Frank)-->

I groaned, my eyes cracking open to the sound of the blaring alarm clock. 6AM. Why did it go off so early?

"Fuuuck. Shut up, shut-up-shut-up-shut-up!" I whisper-screamed, not wanting to wake up my two room mates.

I slapped the alarm off, bringing my palms to my face. I wiped my eyes, freeing them of 'sleep'. Since the bathroom was free, I hopped up and went to pee. The dimly lit bathroom was cold against my toes and shirtless chest, making my nipples look like diamonds. I giggled to myself, flicking them. Why am I so weird. I stopped instantly after realising how weird that actually was. I peed and quickly left, stopping when i saw my bunk bed. Where the fuck was Gerard. It was starting to annoy me. It was kinda weird that i couldn't stop thinking about a boy I'd never met, but his absence intrigued me. I scratched my chin, walking towards the kitchen to get some cereal. Ray and Bob were spooning on the bottom bunk, but I knew it was platonic. They were childhood friends, after all. Besides, having a faggot in my dorm is unacceptable. Sure, I can have them as acquaintances, such as William Beckett, the boy who I defended in that fight yesterday. He is an out and proud dude, I don't mind that. We talked in the halls afterwards, he seemed pretty nice. It's just the prospect of me seeing them... Doing 'stuff', or worse, being violated. Being from a religious family, they hated gays outright, but I just don't wanna see it. Wow, why am i getting so philosophical at 6AM? #

I ate my cereal quite quickly, throwing my bowl onto the massive mountain of dirty dishes which resided in the sink. I gagged, being a neat-freak, but decided that it would be Bobs' job. He cooks, after all. Majored in cooking in his old school, as i learned. It just turned 6:20AM. Pulling on my shirt, tie, socks and pants, i was left with nothing to do for 2 hours, so i sighed and lay on my bed, being an angsty teen. I picked up my guitar after a while, playing about on it, knowing basic notes and barre chords. This was basically all i brought to the school. This and my Black Flag shirt were my prised possessions. Well, those and a wallet that had a 5 year old condom in it. What can I say, I was prepared at a young age. 9 to be exact. I get off topic a lot, don't I? Anyway, I sat there, being 'emo', playing my guitar, yada yada yada, 'where the fuck is my room mate', blah blah blah. I make myself bored. I'm done here. Nothing interesting happens to ol' frankie yet anyways.

#---(Ryan)-->

"Hey." I shook Brendon. If we're gonna be doing this tutoring thing, I'm gonna have to tell him that I'm teaching him first. Get it outta the way.

He groaned and swatted away my hand.

"Go away mama, i don't wanna go to church, I don't believe in it! I already told you, I wanna be a-." He groaned, eyes closed. I pursed my lips at his outburst. What the fuuuuuuuuck?

"Umm, Brend-" I started

"Oh, sorry, thought you were my-" He attempted to explain, jumping up in his bed.

"Yeah, I get it. Anyways, I made you breakfast." I lifted up the plate with the bacon and eggs shaped into a smiley face.

He looked confused, wiping his eyes, slowly climbing out of bed. I put his food at one place on the table, I sat opposite. He dug in.

"So," He looked up from his food abruptly, as i broke the silence. "I am gonna be tutoring you in English on Wednesdays from now on, so I would appreciate it if you refrained from making fun of my sexuality. Before we go any further, i would like to clarify. Yes, I'm gay, a big gay... Thing, and I don't see how that is a problem so you should just-" He looked almost excited upon hearing this.

Brendon swallowed his mouthful of bacon, his face contorting. He looked at Dallon (presumably to check if he was awake, which he wasn't) then spoke.

"You've got me all wrong, daddy-o," He said, winking, positively oozing with confidence now he was without his friend. "And since we are confidential, i'm assuming, i want to tell you something too. I'm pansexual, i just love ass. Honestly, i couldn't give a fuck if i tried about your sexuality, I just can't take my dip in popularity that coming out would cause. That's why I hang around with Dallon. I am an attention whore, self confessed." He smiled, nodding like a stoner. He probably was one. 

I was gob-smacked, to be honest. Maybe Gabey Baby was right, I made it up in my head that Brendon was a bully. Brendon was smokin' hot. What? I'm bitter and angry, not blind. That felt like a small victory. I beamed a toothy smile at Brendon. He returned the favour, mouth full of egg. I gagged and laughed. Good to know that he wasn't all bad.

Very good to know.

*Lunch*

#---(josh)-->

I stared at Ty across from me as he made some dumb joke about an eggplant. He was adorable. His little teeth poked out from behind his plush pink lips as he grinned, finding himself hilarious. I was enthralled. For a sporty dude, he was tiny compared to the rest of us, and that made him even cuter. We had made a couple friends in the red house, because on tuesdays, we shared both of our classes; PE and science. We had just finished PE, and though the reds aren't as good at sport as us, since they are basically all art majors, it was still fun. I met a really cool dude called Frank and his friends, Bob and Ray. Ty didn't like Bob too much, but I think that's because he felt threatened. Bob is sick as frick at football. American football, that is. That's just because he is a big dude though. This stoner called Travie was really funny too, we got along, which is why we were invited to his room to smoke weed on Friday, but Tyler said no. It's a shame, could have been fun.

Anyways, we were sat here, me and Tyjo, on a table of our own, in our own little world, when he broke the comfortable silence.

"Hey, you said you play drums, right?"

"Yeah, i do. Why?"

"Well, I just, i wondered if you'd like to help me with my first music assignment when we get it." He asked, looking so so so hopeful. I held back a squeal, noting how cute he was when he got excited.

"I thought you'd never ask." I countered, fluttering my eyes closed and putting forward my hand as if he would kiss it. He laughed and took my hand in his. 

"I'm a pretty, pretty princess" I continued.

"That you are." He winked at me. This kid is killing me. Either tell me you're straight or lemme smash- Wait, what am I saying? I need help. I have my doubts about his sexuality, though. He hasn't actually specified what it is, but I have a feeling that he is at LEAST bi, i can tell. In PE, he was staring at everybodys' asses. I mean, i was too, but that's besides the point. I'm gay, I'm allowed to.

"I am definitely NOT a pretty princess. Have you SEEN my leg hair?" I laughed, lifting my leg up onto the table and peeling back my tight school pants. He made fake gagging noises and covered his eyes. Oh yeah, almost forgot, he shaves all of his body hair, dead giveaway. At least i think he shaves it all. He shaved his chest and legs. Not sure about down... There. Yet again, my mind is in the gutter. I need mental help.

"Au contraire my good friend, you are beautiful, like all good princesses should be. You are all natural. You also have wicked hair. I'd say that you are the fairest in all of the land. When the time comes, do allow me to escort you to science m'lady." I blushed, for some strange reason. This was some kind of weird medieval flirting.The rest of lunch time was spent with Ty pretending that I was a princess. When we had finished our food, I went to get up, but Ty wouldn't allow it.

"No, allow me," He smirked "My fair maidens' feet mustn't touch the filthy halls of this establishment! Un-acceptable!" He grinned at me, playing along still, sweeping me up off my feet and carrying me to our second and final tuesday lesson; Science with Mrs Joplin and the Red house. He might not be a big dude, heck, he is tiny, but he sure is a beast. Get you a guy who can do both.

Dallon saw us on the way, ducked his head and just walked away meekly. I smiled. One small step = One giant leap.

*Wednesday*

'#--(Ryan)-->

"Ryan! Ry-an! Ry! Ryro!" The voice roused me, the person who it belonged to shaking me violently.

"Whaaaaat?" I said back to Gabe, my head shooting up and hitting the top of my bunk. I groaned, rubbing the area and looking at Gabe menacingly.

"2 things, baby. Get up and I'll enlighten you." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I was intrigued, not gonna lie. I stood up in just my boxers, sitting down on the large wooden table in the kitchen. I heard banging from the year 12 pupils on the floor above us and looked at the time. 6AM. What the shit were they doing at this time? Gabe sat beside me with two Starbucks cups in his hand. I licked my lips like the basic white bitch i am.

"So, first of all, I met someone. They're called William, they're from the Red house, we ate dinner together on Monday and yesterday, and i think we are an item." He blushed, i did too. Aww.

"If we aren't a thing yet, then i can tell that it's happening. He's really cute and tiny and i love me a twink." He winked at me. I was shocked to hear that he swung both ways, but it meant that we had more to talk about, so i welcomed it with open arms.

"Congrats, man, get some ass." I laughed, punching his shoulder playfully. He shrugged me off, laughing, and continued.

"Anyways, second thing, good luck today, bro." He grinned. I furrowed my eyebrows, wracking my brain. What's today? 

"C'mon, don't tell me already forgot your 'tutor' date with the hottest piece of ass since you met me." He almost gloated, licking his finger, putting it on his ass, then making a 'tshhh' sound. 

"Anyways, good luck!" He said, passing me a Starbucks cup. I whimpered and drank it almost instantly. Finally. My old friend. I missed you, caffeine. He sat there observing, as if i was some beast eating it's first meal after starvation. I basically was.

He sat there with me for about half an hour, giving me advice on how to deal with it. I noticed that he hadn't touched the other cup of Starbucks. I pointed towards it and he soon had his signature cocky smile plastered on his face.

"Oh, this ain't mine, my white-ass friend. It's an icebreaker for you to wake Urie up with." He smiled knowingly and held up the beverage. I gritted my teeth and went over. Gabe stayed at the table, watching, like a sniper in his nest. He's got my back. I've got his Starbucks.

"Hey, dude, Brendon, um, wake up." Why does he make me so nervous? I breath in deeply.

He woke up with a small smile, stretching his arms, showing off his tiny 15 year olds' pecs. He was slightly smaller than me, but still a lot more muscular, so I had no room to judge.

"Hi," He said quietly, still smiling. "Is this a dream?" He wondered aloud. I'm not sure what that was supposed to mean, but i let it slide.

"No, It's just me. I'm far from a dream. I brought you this. We are gonna be having that session later, remember?" 

"Oh, of course I do. I'd never forget you..." He winked. I furrowed my eyebrows at this. Where does he get all this confidence? I bet he stores it in his forehead. I laughed internally. "Thanks for the fuel, dude." He winked again, grabbing the cup and taking a gulp. I'm still so very confused as to how i was supposed to react to this craven in the bed across the room from me. An enigma and a twat at the very same time. I was both excited and dreading the tutor sessions to come.

#---(Ryan again, after school)-->

The day went off without a hitch, we had music and dance with the Red house. I met the infamous stoner, Travie M. Who, by the way, is fucking hilarious. I'm invited to go smoke some weed with 'them all' after school on Friday. I said yes. Fuck what my father would say. He isn't around to say anything. Wasn't around to tell me no when he had a voice. Dumb fucking drunk.

I was sat in the library, pitch dark (lights had gone out) with my phone flashlight pointed towards the desk. When Brendon came to work, he could at least see what he was doing then. I sat for a while, tapping my feet until the door swung open. In waltzed a tiny Brendon, his hair standing tall and full in a quiff. He smiled lazily, though i could barely make it out in the dark.

"Hey dude, I'm here on time, right?" He rushed to sit down, looking surprisingly eager to learn.

"Yeah, right on time. So, I understand that you have trouble with reading and spelling. Particularly when writing it yourself. Is that correct?" I said, frankly.

He blushed and hid his face in his palms.

"Hey, that's nothing to be ashamed of, we all have struggles in our lives, each our own. You find things difficult on paper, i have a whole bunch of family problems." I said, plucking up the courage to move his hands from his face. He was crying. Oh no.

"Wanna talk about it?" He suggested, attempting to dodge his own problems. To hide from them. That makes two of us. He wiped his eyes, sniffling. 

"No, I am fine. In fact, I am great. Let's start working!" I lied, adding false enthusiasm to the mix of emotions in our quiet little space.

He nodded and picked up a pen, drying his eyes. Turning to me, he smiled.

"Everything will get better one day, i promise you Ry." I was taken aback by his use of my nickname.

"I promise you too, Brendon. We'll get through this shit together."

He sighed, seeming contempt. I tried to take my gaze off of his face as he struggled to read out 'sword'.

The session went by quickly, and i had found a new respect and adoration for him. He was determined to improve himself, no matter the cost. That impressed me. What really made me happy though, was that we were doing it together. A team. As one. I think this was around the time that I warmed upto him completely. Of course, Dallon would never approve.

#--(Pete)-->

We walked back to the dorm, Patrick and I, at 11pm. We were out at our new favourite place, the music room. Nobody was really ever there after school we guessed, so we spent hours just fucking around with the drums, cackling like maniacs. He was awesome, and i sat there and watched him. He made it look so easy. He was too nervous to sing for me though. I hear that he is pretty fuckin' good, Billie heard him in the showers after PE. To try and convince him to get outta his shell, I sang 'sweet home alabama' in a mock southern accent. It didn't work, but it made him smile. I live and breathe for that smile.

After the cleaner busted us, I walked him back to the dorms, leaving him at the door to his room. I only left once he was inside safely. I went to my dorm room afterwards, the scene was a sight to behold. Rivers, in only his boxers, asleep upside down on a tipped chair, soda spilled, cheese puffs all over, xbox remote in hand, snoring. I held in my laughter and went over to help him up.

Picking him up, an arm under his knees, one under his back, i flopped him onto his bed. I threw a blanket over him and turned back around. It was a mess, and he sure as hell wouldn't tidy it up. I huffed and got on my knees. I picked up all of the cheese puffs, putting them in their packet, throwing it away. I mopped up the spilled drink with a towel and washed it in the sink. Finally, I picked up the remote, considered playing on it, shook my head and turned it off. Picking up the chair, i took off my pants and flopped on my bed, feeling exhausted.

The room soon fell silent, i relaxed into my mattress, seeking sleep. Suddenly, my eyes shot open. I heard sniffles and rattling breaths. Confused, I turned on my bedside lamp, shooting a look at Rivers. He was fast asleep, it couldn't have been him. I sighed and closed my eyes, but the noise persisted. When I opened my eyes again, they focused on the hole i had created which led to Patricks' room. Was my baby boy crying? Even the thought of this made me panic, so I shot up and looked through the tiny hole. It was almost pitch black, and i saw Tre, Billie and Mike asleep on each of the three sides of the room which i could see. The sound had gotten louder too, so I whispered into the hole, knowing that my Tricky was crying.

"Hey! Baby boy, answer me-ee. Please?" I whispered into the small opening in the wall. I heard sheets rustling.

"What?" I could imagine him in his little blanket cocoon with his cute lil face poking out.

"Why are you sad? When you're upset, It makes me feel so sad."

"I'm fine"

"You're not."

"..."

"C'mon Tricky, you can tell me anything."

"I... I don't even know what to say. I miss home, but I don't. And... Dallon won't leave me the frick alone! I hate it. He won't leave me be, he even left this. I can just feel that it was him. I hate him Pete, I really do."

"Left what?" I asked angrily.

Patrick shoved a little rolled up piece of paper onto our talk-y hole. I took it and read it.

-Dearest fat cunt,

Please do us all a favour and leave this school. Go back to America, hell, go curl up and die in a hole. Kill yourself, you are good for nothing and to top it all off, you are a music major. You're destined for failure. Sure, the blue house faggots might have shut us all up a little, but I'm not done with you, piggy. Seriously, unless you want all of the children in Africa to die of starvation, you should end your life. You are eating all of their food.

love, your worst nightmare-

I actually almost laughed at how cringe-worthy and stupid that letter was. He isn't fat, and from what i hear, his music is gonna take him far. To top it all off, the person singed themselves as 'your worst nightmare'. Just kill me now, that was so stupid.

But then it sunk in.

They were telling him to kill himself, and he was crying. That means that he was at least listening to what they were saying, and my heart dropped. I dropped the paper on my bed and moved my mouth back to the hole. They weren't gonna fuck with MY Patrick. Not today.

"Baby boy, listen to me. I want you to promise me, that no matter how upset you are, you'll never hurt yourself, ever. I couldn't live if you- If something happened. You understand? Promise me."

I shoved my pinkie through the hole, it just fit through. He curled his pinkie around mine and i rested my head against the wall. 

"Thank you." I sighed. He was gonna keep that promise, or at least i hoped.

"Thank you Pete. I love you." My heart fluttered, i felt butterflies, threatening to erupt out of my stomach.

"Hey, come over Trick. I wanna spoon." I said, returning to happy Pete. He nodded, padding his feet on the floor of his room, walking through the halls and coming into my room. He slipped into my bed and i was the big spoon for a change, hugging him tightly, messing around with his golden brown hair. Before he arrived in my dorm, hell, in my life, i was down. When he arrived, I was always happy.

I'm not me without him.


	11. Trade mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad - Bo Burnham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been M.I.A for so long, i am sorry to anyone keeping up to date. I started my last year of school and I'm shooketh. It's taking its toll on my mental state and time. Here's a small chapter i threw together a while ago, but i didn't like it so i rewrote it today for you. You won't be happy but everything will be okay, this is a fluffy fic, remember?
> 
> Please can days be made like 2 hours longer or something.

#--(Josh)-->

"Look, if you want to, I'm not gonna stop you, you're your own man, but i think that it's a huge mistake."

"It's not! Why do you think it's legal in California? Hmm? Exactly. Nobody ever got hurt from smoking weed."

"Well, I don't want you to be the first. If you got caught, you could get sent home! You'd have to leave me! I'd never see you again! Don't go home..."

"And where the fuck IS my home, Ty? If you could tell me, that'd make one of us who knew."

"I- I don't know. You never mentioned..."

Tyler looked at his shoes. I instantly regretted yelling, walking over to him and lifting his chin with my finger. He didn't know. His bloodshot eyes looked into mine. I didn't want him to cry.

"I'm sorry, forget about it. I'll tell you one day. If you really don't want me to, I won't go to Travies' dorm. I don't wanna get taken away from you."

"Thank you, Jish, so much." He still looked sad. It made my heart ache.

"For what?" My eyebrows quirked.

"For being you." He smiled, his eyes closed, my finger still under his chin.

I moved my face closer, our noses touching. Here goes everything. Gulping, i turned my head to the side and connected our lips gently. His eyes fluttered open, his eyes glassy. He was confused. I pulled back.

"I'm- S- Sorry, I gotta... Uhm." 

I gestured my thumb to the door and ran out of the room. He didn't kiss back. Why did I think he would. Fuck. What did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

#---(Tyler)-->

I was terrified, slackjawed as he ran at full pelt out of my view. D-did he mean that? Is he sick? Delusional? He didn't seem gay. I scrunched up my face and turned to the wall.

My face felt hot and genuine anger flowed through my head, making it pound. Thick tears were held back as i sniffled. Why didn't i kiss back. If he meant it, now he thinks that I don't like him... I do, my God i like him, waaay too much. I fucked up. 

He caught me off guard.

Without thinking, my forehead swiftly and repeatedly connected with the wall making dull thuds.

After a while, it went numb, me slapping my face up against the wall. No fucking clue as to why, it was in no way productive.

"I should go -thud- find Josh, tell him how -thud- i feel. Maybe -thud- he feels the same." I wondered aloud. 

Who was i kidding? I'm too much of a pussy to face my problems head on, so i chose to sit in my room, brooding. If he was gonna smoke weed tomorrow, I'm gonna be there to protect him while he does. Nothing in the world could stop me from keeping him safe.

I growled, scrunching up a piece of my notepad with lyrics i had wrote on it and tossing it at the window in anger. It landed on Joshs' bed. I buried my face in my pillow. Fuck my life.


	12. Paper Planes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to the first Friday of the new school, visit Travie Mccoys' dorm, find something which once was lost, see the reaction to this 'thing'. (1/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am exhausted, revising/studying/homework/illness/exercise/school is a constant. On that note, a short chapter is better than no chapter at all, right? Right Guys?
> 
> 1) British school desks are 2 person tables.
> 
> 2) There are 5 lessons a day usually, but in this fic, i made it 2 a day for simplicity on my part

#---(Frank, first lesson, art)-->

"Mr Oreo, you are late, that won't do! Honestly, sit down you silly little boy. Detention after school! No buts!"

"It's IERO, and i got locked out, it's not my fault that John is a jerk, he made me late to class. It's a god damn friday, have some mercy!""

"I said no buts, young man. Sit down!"

I huffed, shooting a glance at John, who stuck out his tongue and made a rude sound. I stuck up my middle finger and went about finding a desk. Yet again, I was sat on the only empty desk, Gerard was meant to be sat next to me, but still hadn't shown up. A more interested Frank cared at first, but soon found it boring and tiring to think about. What happened to him? No matter. I hated art, so i put in my headphones and clicked onto my 'fuck school' playlist. Looking back, that's cringe worthy, but at that time, i hated school, heck, hated my life.

#--(Ryan, lunchtime)-->

I was walking down the corridor, my backpack slung over my right shoulder, my hand supporting the strap, when all of a sudden, my whole body was slammed against the cold lockers. My vision unfocused as i scrambled to find out who or what had pushed me. Oh. Of course it had to be Dallon. He started to ramble but i couldn't focus on it, i was too dizzy. His irritating need to hurt you if you were different started to grate on me within the first couple days of meeting him, but now, it was just boring. He started to shout, spitting in my face. I finally focused in on what he was saying.

..." Disgusting. Just look at you, no wonder you're so skinny, you're the runt of the litter that your mother didn't want, i can tell from 2 miles away. What do you think will happen next time i see you in MY corridor, huh?" He fumed, as i caught sight of Brendon standing behind him. He looked full of shame. Good. He should have stepped up and been a man. Help me when i need it, or don't earn the privilege to bring me Starbucks, pick one.

"You aren't gonna do shit. You're all bark and no bite!" I coughed out feebly as he pressed his hands into my neck. Brendon was still silent, two other boys who i didn't recognise stood there grinning. 

"This is all LITERALLY only because you think I'm gay, right? Well doesn't the fact that you keep beating up 'gays' show everyone how insecure of your sexuality you are? I think it does, personally." I snarled, and Brendon smirked at me. I smiled back. I was still angry, but one thing at a time.

"Maybe, just maybe, you are a little scared of yourself. Maybe you're trying to hide somethin-" 

That was the last thing i heard before i was knocked out, one swift punch, i heard the crunch of my nose. It still makes me cringe. But it mostly makes me laugh. Fast forward a year and you'll understand.


	13. Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about my shitty uploading schedule but i've lost a lot of time, enthusiasm and freedom in this fic. I'm going to get out of this slump, and carry on if it kills me. Ryden is a ship yet to sail its' maiden voyage, but it is possibly inbound. Carrying on from last chapter!
> 
> Brendon hugging ryan description if not clear: type in "back hug" but imagine its on a bed. I find it hard to articulate.  
>  https://i.pinimg.com/736x/64/f6/f4/64f6f4068741bdf2f83dbc24925139d7--best-hug-holding-hands.jpg

(Ryan)

My eyes cracked open hesitantly, the harsh infirmary light blinding me, my arm shot up to shield my view. After growing accustomed, i leaned up in bed and moved my arm out of view. Brendon was sat there, staring at me like a sad little puppy. I wanted to squeeze his cheeks, but instead settled on asking him why he was here.

"You got hurt pretty bad. I was afraid they might have left my tutor in a vegetative state." He joked. I smiled at him.

"Thanks, i guess." I was at a loss for words.

"So school is just about over, but everyone is getting stoned if you're up for it? None of those guys are invited, just red, blue, purple house, Gabe and us two are invited. I'll be your date, if you'll have me?" He asked, somewhat hopefully. I didn't know how to take it so i just shrugged it off.

"I feel like i got hit by a bus, i think I'm gonna sit this one out, but you go ahead. Gabe is pretty fond of you."

"No. I'm staying with you. I should have stepped in, I could have, i just don't wanna be the one on the sharp end of the stick. I'm sorry Ryan." He was being so sincere, it was weird. And pretty endearing.

"You sure?"

"Of course." He smiled warmly. I moved over on the bed and patted the empty spot, but he shook his head and climbed on the bed behind me so his arms were wrapped around me and i was lay on him, like a bear hug, only i was extremely confused and he was acting like this was normal behaviour. I kinda melted into it and fell asleep.

 

(Frank)

Since getting to this school, i tried exceedingly hard not to get into any trouble and to work hard, but teachers just seemed to have a predisposed hatred towards me. It pissed me off then, still does to this day. No wander i hated school, huh? I trudged into the art building and headed for the room where i had my detention. I knocked on the door and after no answer, peaked onto the glass panes at the top of the frame. There was a blurry someone with a mess of red hair, white skin and a tiny frame. I decided to walk in, which i am so glad i did, to this day.

I cracked open the door, walking in and sitting on the desk, facing the only person in the room. He was tiny, skinny and had a little button nose. His face was round and squishy, i could tell a mile off. I never took interest in a person anywhere near as much before. He was definitely a he, though he had a very feminine air about him. I coughed loudly to get his attention, he had headphones in, and i startled him. He took out his headphones and apologised. Huh. He had a Jersey accent.

"You from Jersey, then?" I asked confidently, inwardly excited to have someone from back home.

"Uhh, yeah, originally, but i just moved in from Italy. I only arrived today at like lunch time. You from Jersey too then?" He flicked his hair from his face, it drooped back down, he stuck out his bottom lip and blew it away. I found it somewhat cute.

"Oh, cool, Italy? You're so porcelain to be from a hot country. And, yeah, Jersey boy, Frank Iero. You are?" It was true, he was ice white.

"I'm Gerard way, I'm in form-"

"Red, yeah, i knew already, I'm in your dorm! I was wondering when you'd show up! We share a bunk. Our room mates are really nice, oh man, you're gonna love-" Gerard looked kinda scared.

"Oh. Not much of a talker? I get it dude. Anyways, it's nice to finally meet you." I calmed myself. He's an introvert, my perfect opposite.

"Like wise" Gerard smiled back, flashing his teeth at me.

"So what're you here for?" 

"I missed a lesson of art while i was gone, and i wanna catch up. When i grow up, I wanna be an artist. I love art, comics, painting, drama, music. It's my life. Why're you here then, Mr Iero?"

"You're the first person to ever pronounce Iero correctly, including me. Well done. I'm here for a detention, cuz I'm automatically Satan in all of the teachers' eyes for whatever reason."

Gerard giggled. It was really cute. I can say that now, but because i wasn't ever secure with my sexuality truly, i would have never admitted it then. We talked for like 2 hours, until my art teacher finally arrived.

"Good god Frank, why are you still here, i said 15 minutes, off you go. Gerard, you are coming to mandatory catch-ups every Friday. If you want to make it in art, that's what it will take." 

If Gerard was gonna go, i was gonna go too. I really liked him, and he had so many cool stories about Europe. I think i subconsciously decided that he was my favourite thing ever from the minute i first saw him.


	14. Room where it happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has taken me literal months to write a week of fic-time. Get ready for some major skipping boring bits to make up for it bbs.
> 
> Funfact, i have the memory of a goldfish so every time i write a new chapter, i have to read at least the last couple to remember.
> 
> Lol to my update, i was gonna write but i started exams, i have 2 weeks of 'em left. 
> 
> Enjoy?

(Josh)

I completely mis-read the situation with Ty earlier, he closed his damn eyes! That doesn't mean kiss him! Stupid-Stupid-Stupid! Now we can't be friendship goals, cuz i just kissed a guy who I'm like 99.9% sure is straight. Why am i like this?

I'm knocked out of my thoughts by Travie who jumped on my back. 

"Suh dude? You look sad. Cheer up mon, we gettin' blazed tonight!" I couldn't help but giggle at his mock Jamaican accent. A little cultural insensitivity never hurt no-one.

"Yeah, true. Hey, how did you even get it in the first place?" He tapped his nose and i laughed. Weirdo.

(Patrick)

"I'm a little nervous, me and Pete are about to go over to Travies' dorm and smoke weed. I've never done it, what if it makes you say what you're thinking like that dentist gas or something." I questioned myself out loud. It was a genuine concern. That's the last thing I'd want. I squirted a huge blob of toothpaste onto my brush before realising that this was just like the home alone monologue where he slaps his face and screams.

Suddenly, Pete burst in my room and hugged me from behind. I could have swore that he smelled my hair. Huh. He spoke, almost too fast to comprehend.

"Hey, lunchbox, what you wearing. Tonight, i mean. Hah. Uhm."

I span around and gestured to my uniform. Pete shook his head and smirked. 

"Follow me."

I groaned, expecting an ultra gay fashion show for Pete's amusement, but he just handed me one of his baggier band T-shirts and some very small looking jeans. I glared at him, he expected me to fit into some of HIS skinny jeans. I'm not a twig. He stuck out his bottom lip like he was gonna cry and i sighed. 

"FINE, BUT IF MY ASS LOOKS FAT I-"

"If your ass looks fat, I will be sure to stare at it constantly," He half joked. I huffed and gave in, yanking on the jeans.

It took like 15-20 minutes to finally get the things above my ankles, i laughed, still feeling super self conscious about my chubby thighs. Pete said i looked hot and jokingly licked his lips. I laughed nervously and zipped up the fly. I gestured to the bathroom to go get my shirt on and he allowed me some privacy. Fuck anybody who thinks I'm taking my shirt off in front of somebody who i like.

(That night, the party-Josh)

Travie snorted some coke off Amy's stomach. I gulped. He was going a bit drug crazy and i was worried for him. He yelled out after he'd finished 'woo' and i wanted to stop him before he got hurt. Instead i left him and his massive group of guys that were taking the REALLY bad drugs, walking into the hall of the red dorm, where the drinks and the music were. Some club music, people dancing, lots of girls, probably from another school. There was a girl crying in the corner and her friend was busy slapping some guy 'Ben, you slut! How could you?'. There was some guy passed out on the floor and it was utter chaos. I'd guess there was about 300 people in the small dorm floor, most of them grinding each other and singing drunkenly. I was a little intimidated, so I left the dance floor and walked to the bar. There was that guy, Patrick, the one who got beat up.

"Hey, Patrick? I'm sorry about what happened with your friend and that Dallon prick. If that ever happens again, just know that the blue house have got your back." He smiled and nodded at me appreciatively. 

"Thanks. He's just an ass hole, he tore Pete apart. He had to literally get stitches. I heard that he beat up some other kid so bad he is in the infirmary now. Anyways, I'm a little drunk so I'm gonna go sit on Pete for a while. Nice meeting you, blue!" I liked that nickname, to go with my hair. I dyed it for the party. I smiled and waved before pouring myself some vodka and coke.

After a while, people started to leave, one by one, taking their passed out friends back to their rooms, the girls from another school (which i learned is a partner school of the same name as ours) went stumbling home. There were around 10 of us left. Me, Patrick, Pete, Kurt, Paul M., Travie, Amy, Nate and my friend Chester. We were sat in a circle as Travie rolled a blunt. I shook in anticipation and nervous-ness.

Travie was first, then it was me. He handed it to me and I was kinda scared. What if i died? It was now or never, so i brought it to my lips. I went to take a hit and i- Tyler burst through the door, panting.

"Wait! I'm sorry for what happened Jish. No way am I letting you do this without me." He rushed out, and he sat next to me, Travie making room. Everyone looked confused as fuck. I smiled and Ty asked me if i was sure. I said yes. He nodded and held my hand tightly. I inhaled. My pupils dilated and time slowed. Everyone was laughing uncontrollably, at nothing. Tyler had a protective arm around me the whole time.

Patrick and Pete were laughing and dancing to the music still playing in the dorm, Travie and his friends were play-wrestling. Tyler sat me on the couch, he looked concerned.

"Earlier... Did you- I mean, did you mean it? That kiss. THAT kiss? I don't want it to come between our friendship, I mean, you're straight, it was just an accident, right?"

"No. It wasn't. I like you, a lot and I know you don't feel the same way and I'm sorry and i regret putting you in such an awkward position but I like you a lot and I couldn't help myself-"

I was interrupted by Ty's lips on mine. I was shocked at first, but i melted into it. He moved on top of me fluidly and sucked at my bottom lip. I moaned and cupped his ass. This was all very unexpected, so it took me a minute. I bit his lip and he shuddered with pleasure. I grinned into his mouth, but he wasn't smiling, he was-

"I'm sorry, I didn't," He apologised and i wanted him to carry on.

"Shut up!" I laughed, and pushed him to the bottom now.

It got pretty intense, I moved down to his neck and nibbled it gently, leaving a trail of love bites and spit. He moaned and pulled up my shirt. I stood up off the couch to pull it off properly then jumped right back down onto him. He kissed my jaw and started to feel my abs (which, by the way, I am very proud of). I suddenly realised that the room was no longer ful of noise.

It was absolutely silent.

I looked up and all of the guys were staring at us, gob-smacked. Travie just slapped his knee and laughed, then everybody joined in. Crap. I looked down at Tyler. He looked skeptical, but shrugged his shoulders and leaned up, pecking my lips one last time. This elicited another laugh.

Travie wolf whistled and lifted his glass up. It was kind of surreal, but trust the guy who smokes weed to be accepting of two (gay?) guys going at it on his couch.

I don't really remember much else after that.

(Pete)

After that smoke-show, Tyler and Josh went back to their dorm and it kinda opened my eyes. Maybe one day I could come out, since those two just did in public basically. No. Me and Patrick stumbled home, him holding onto me like he was gonna collapse. When we got into the dorm, he smiled and kissed my cheek before face-planting into his room.

It took all the strength i had, but i picked him up and lay him on his bed. I kissed his forehead, lay his glasses on the table and closed his door before i went back to my room.

Rivers was still awake, playing skyrim. When i got in, he asked me if i got any ass. I laughed and lay in bed. I slept like a brick.


	15. Chapter 15

soooooo, i think im gonna be making a comeback in lke 2 weeks bcs im bored of not writing, ignore my total lack of grammar here, i have like 8 hours until one of my final exams, much love xoxo .frnk.


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